THE 

LOVES OF THE ANGELS, 

8 l£>oem. 

By THOMAS MOORE. 



It happened, after the sons of men had multiplied in those days, that 
daughters were born to them elegant and beautiful ; and when the Angels, 
the sons of heaven, beheld them, they became enamoured of them. 

The Book of Enoch, chap. vii. sect. 2. 



LONDON : 

PRINTED FOR 

LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, 

PATERNOSTER-ROW. 
1823. 



Tff & *Y 
.16 




PREFACE. 



This Poem, somewhat different in form, 
and much more limited in extent, was ori- 
ginally designed as an episode for a work, 
about which I have been, at intervals, 
employed during the last two years. Some 
months since, however, I found that my 
friend Lord Byron had, by an accidental 
coincidence, chosen the same subject for 
a Drama ; and, as I could not but feel the 
disadvantage of coming after so formidable 
a rival, I thought it best to publish my 
humble sketch immediately, with such 



Vlll PREFACE. 

alterations and additions as I had time 
to make, and thus, by an earlier appear- 
ance in the literary horizon, give myself 
the chance of what astronomers call an 
Heliacal rising, before the luminary, in 
whose light I was to be lost, should 
appear. 

As objections may be made, by per- 
sons whose opinions I respect, to the 
selection of a subject of this nature from 
the Scripture, I think it right to remark, 
that, in point of fact, the subject is not 
scriptural — the notion upon which it is 
founded (that of the love of Angels for 
women) having originated in an erroneous 
translation by the LXX. of that verse in 



PREFACE. IX 

the sixth chapter of Genesis, upon which 
the sole authority for the fable rests.* 
The foundation of my story, therefore, 
has as little to do with Holy Writ as have 
the dreams of the later Platonists, or the 
reveries of the Jewish divines ; and, in 
appropriating the notion thus to the uses 
of poetry, I have done no more than 
establish it in that region of fiction, to 
which the opinions of the most rational 
Fathers, and of all other Christian theolo- 
gians, have long ago consigned it. 

In addition to the fitness of the subject 
for poetry, it struck me also as capable of 
affording an allegorical medium, through 

* See Note. 



X PREFACE. 

whicli might be shadowed out (as I have 
endeavoured to do in the following stories,) 
the fall of the Soul from its original purity — 
the loss of light and happiness which it suf- 
fers, in the pursuit of this world's perishable 
pleasures — and the punishments, both from 
conscience and Divine justice, with which 
impurity, pride, and presumptuous inquiry 
into the awful secrets of God, are sure to 
be visited. The beautiful story of Cupid 
and Psyche owes its chief charm to this 
sort of " veiled meaning," and it has been 
my wish (however I may have failed in the 
attempt) to communicate the same moral 
interest to the following pages. 



LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 



'Twas when the world was in its prime, 

When the fresh stars had just begun 
Their race of glory, and young Time 

Told his first birth-days by the sun ; 
When, in the light of Nature's dawn 

Rejoicing, men and angels met 
On the high hill and sunny lawn, — 
Ere sorrow came, or Sin had drawn 

'Twixt man and heaven her curtain yet ! 



2 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

When earth lay nearer to the skies 
Than in these days of crime and woe, 

And mortals saw, without surprise, 

In the mid-air, angelic eyes 
Gazing upon this world below. 

Alas, that Passion should profane, 
Ev'n then, that morning of the earth ! 

That, sadder still, the fatal stain 

Should fall on hearts of heavenly birth - 

And oh, that stain so dark should fall 

From Woman's love, most sad of all ! 

One evening, in that time of bloom, 

On a hill's side, where hung the ray 
Of sunset, sleeping in perfume, 

Three noble youths conversing lay; 



THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 5 

And, as they look'd, from time to time, 

To the far sky, where Daylight furl'd 
His radiant wing, their brows sublime 

Bespoke them of that distant world — 
Creatures of light, such as still play, 

Like motes in sunshine, round the Lord, 
And through their infinite array 
Transmit each moment, night and day, 

The echo of His luminous word ! 

Of Heaven they spoke, and, still more oft, 

Of the bright eyes that charm'd them thence; 
Till, yielding gradual to the soft 

And balmy evening's influence — 
The silent breathing of the flowers — 

The melting light that beam'd above, 
As on their first, fond, erring hours, 

Each told the story of his love, 
b 2 



I THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

The history of that hour unblest, 
When, like a bird, from its high nest 
Won down by fascinating eyes, 
For Woman's smile he lost the skies. 

The First who spoke was one, with look 

The least celestial of the three — 
A Spirit of light mould, that took 

The prints of earth most yieldingly ; 
Who, eVn in heaven, was not of those 

Nearest the Throne, but held a place 
Far off, among those shining rows 

That circle out through endless space, 
And o'er whose wings the light from Him 
In the great centre falls most dim. 

Still fair and glorious, he but shone 
Among those youths th' unheavenliest one - 



THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

A creature, to whom light remain'd 
From Eden still, but alter'd, stain'd, 
And o'er whose brow not Love alone 

A blight had, in his transit, sent, 
But other, earthlier joys had gone, 

And left their foot-prints as they went. 

Sighing, as through the shadowy Past 
Like a tomb-searcher, Memory ran, 

Lifting each shroud that Time had cast 
O'er buried hopes, he thus began: — 



b 3 



THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. 

'Twas in a land, that far away 
Into the golden orient lies, 
Where Nature knows not night's delay, 
But springs to meet her bridegroom, Day, 

Upon the threshold of the skies. 
One morn, on earthly mission sent, 

And mid-way choosing where to light, 
I saw, from the blue element — 

Oh beautiful, but fatal sight ! — 
One of earth's fairest womankind, 
Half veil'd from view, or rather shrin'd 
In the clear crystal of a brook ; 

Which, while it hid no single gleam 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. 

Of her young beauties, made them look 
More spirit-like, as they might seem 
Through the dim shadowing of a dream. 

Pausing in wonder I look'd on, 

While, playfully around her breaking 

The waters, that like diamonds shone, 
She mov'd in light of her own making. 
At length, as slowly I descended 
To view more near a sight so splendid, 

The tremble of my wings all o'er 

(For through each plume I felt the thrill) 

Startled her, as she reach'd the shore 
Of that small lake — her mirror still — 

Above whose brink she stood, like snow 

When rosy with a sunset glow. 

Never shall I forget those eyes ! — 

The shame, the innocent surprise 
b 4 



J THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Of that bright face, when in the air 

Uplooking, she beheld me there. 

It seem'd as if each thought, and look, 

And motion were that minute chain'd 
Fast to the spot, such root she took, 
And — like a sunflower by a brook, 

With face upturn'd — so still remain'd ! 

In pity to the wondering maid, 

Though loth from such a vision turning, 
Downward I bent, beneath the shade 

Of my spread wings to hide the burning 
Of glances, which — I well could feel — 

For me, for her, too warmly shone ; 
But, ere I could again unseal 
My restless eyes, or even steal 

One side-long look, the maid was gone — 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. 

Hid from me in the forest leaves, 
Sudden as when, in all her charms 

Of full-blown light, some cloud receives 
The Moon into his dusky arms. 

'Tis not in words to tell the power, 
The despotism that, from that hour, 
Passion held o'er me — day and night 

I sought around each neighbouring spot, 
And, in the chase of this sweet light, 

My task, and heaven, and all forgot — 
All, but the one, sole, haunting dream 
Of her I saw in that bright stream. 

Nor was it long, ere by her side 
I found myself, whole happy days, 

Listening to words, whose music vied 
With our own Eden's seraph lays, 



io THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

When seraph lays are warm'd by love, 

But, wanting that, far, far above ! — 

And looking into eyes where, blue 

And beautiful, like skies seen through 

The sleeping wave, for me there shone 

A heaven, more worshipp'd than my own. 

Oh what, while I could hear and see 

Such words and looks, was heaven to me ? 

Though gross the air on earth I drew, 

'Twas blessed, while she breath'd it too ; 

Though dark the flowers, though dim the sky, 

Love lent them light, while she was nigh. 

Throughout creation I but knew 

Two separate worlds — the one, that small, 

Belov'd, and consecrated spot 
Where Lea was — the other, all 

The dull, wide waste, where she was not ! 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. 

But vain my suit, my madness vain ; 
Though gladly, from her eyes to gain 

One earthly look, one stray desire, 
I would have torn the wings, that hung 

Furl'd at my back, and o'er that Fire 
Unnam'd in heaven their fragments flung ; - 
'Twas hopeless all — pure and unmov'd 

She stood, as lilies in the light 

Of the hot noon but look more white ; — 
And though she lov'd me, deeply lov'd, 
'Twas not as man, as mortal — no, 
Nothing of earth was in that glow — 
She lov'd me but as one, of race 
Angelic, from that radiant place 
She saw so oft in dreams — that Heaven, 

To which her prayers at morn were sent, 
And on whose light she gaz'd at even, 



12 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Wishing for wings, that she might go 
Out of this shadowy world below, 
To that free, glorious element ! 

Well I remember by her side 

Sitting at rosy even-tide, 

Wlien, — turning to the star, whose head 

Look'd out, as from a bridal bed, 

At that mute, blushing hour, — she said, 

" Oh ! that it were my doom to be 

" The Spirit of yon beauteous star, 
" Dwelling up there in purity, 

" Alone, as all such bright things are ; — 
" My sole employ to pray and shine, 

" To light my censer at the sun, 
" And fling its fire towards the shrine 

" Of Him in heaven, the Eternal One !' 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. 

So innocent the maid — so free 

From mortal taint in soul and frame, 
Whom 'twas my crime — my destiny — 
To love, aye, burn for, with a flame, 
To which earth's wildest fires are tame. 
Had you but seen her look, when first 
From my mad lips the' avowal burst ; 
Not angry — no — the feeling had 
No touch of anger, but most sad — 
It was a sorrow, calm as deep, 
A mournfulness that could not weep, 
So fill'd the heart was to the brink, 
So fix'd and frozen there — to think 
That angel natures — even I, 
Whose love she clung to, as the tie 
Between her spirit and the sky — 
Should fall thus headlong from the height 
Of such pure glory into sin — 



14 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

The sin, of all, most sure to blight, 
The sin, of all, that the soul's light 
Is soonest lost, extinguish'd in ! 
That, though but frail and human, she 
Should, like the half-bird of the sea, 
Try with her wing sublimer air, 
While I, a creature born up there, 
Should meet her, in my fall from light, 
From heaven and peace, and turn her flight 
Downward again, with me to drink 
Of the salt tide of sin, and sink ! 

That very night — my heart had grown 

Impatient of its inward burning ; 
The term, too, of my stay was flown, 
And the bright Watchers # near the throne, 

* See Note. 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. 15 

Already, if a meteor shone 
Between them and this nether zone, 

Thought 'twas their herald's wing returning ;- 
Oft did the potent spell- word, given 

To Envoys hither from the skies, 
To be pronounc'd, when back to heaven 

It is their hour or wish to rise, 
Come to my lips that fatal day; 

And once, too, was so nearly spoken, 
That my spread plumage in the ray 
And breeze of heaven began to play — 

When my heart fail'd — the spell was broken - 
The word unfinish'd died away, 
And my check'd plumes, ready to soar, 
Fell slack and lifeless as before. 

How could I leave a world, which she, 
Or lost or won, made all to me, 



16 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Beyond home — glory — every thing? 

How fly, while yet there was a chance, 
A hope — aye, even of perishing 

Utterly by that fatal glance ! 
No matter where my wanderings were, 

So there she look'd, mov'd, breath'd about — 
Woe, ruin, death, more sweet with her, 

Than all heaven's proudest joys without ! 

But, to return — that very day 

A feast was held, where, full of mirth, 
Came, crowding thick as flowers that play 
In summer winds, the young and gay 

And beautiful of this bright earth. 
And she was there, and 'mid the young 

And beautiful stood first, alone ; 
Though on her gentle brow still hung 

The shadow I that morn had thrown — 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. 

The first, that ever shame or woe 

Had cast upon its vernal snow. 

My heart was madden'd — in the flush 

Of the wild revel I gave way 
To all that frantic mirth — that rush 

Of desperate gaiety, which they, 
Who never felt how pain's excess 
Can break out thus, think happiness — 
Sad mimicry of mirth and life, 
Whose flashes come but from the strife 
Of inward passions — like the light 
Struck out by clashing swords in fight, 

Then, too, that juice of earth, the bane 
And blessing of man's heart and brain — 
That draught of sorcery, which brings 
Phantoms of fair, forbidden things — 



18 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Whose drops, like those of rainbows, smile 

Upon the mists that circle man, 
Bright'ning not only Earth, the while, 

But grasping Heaven, too, in their span ! — 
Then first the fatal wine-cup rain'd 

Its dews of darkness through my lips, 
Casting whate'er of light remain'd 

To my lost soul into eclipse, 
And filling it with such wild dreams, 

Such fantasies and wrong desires, 
As, in the absence of heaven's beams, 

Haunt us for ever — like wild-fires 

That walk this earth, when day retires. 

Now hear the rest — our banquet done, 

I sought her in the' accustom'd bower, 
Where late we oft, when day was gone, 
And the world hush'd, had met alone, 
At the same silent, moonlight hour. 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. i« 

I found her — oh, so beautiful ! 

Why, why have hapless Angels eyes? 
Or why are there not flowers to cull, 

As fair as Woman, in yon skies ? 
Still did her brow, as usual, turn 
To her lov'd star, which seem'd to burn 

Purer than ever on that night ; 

While she, in looking, grew more bright, 
As though that planet were an urn 

From which her eyes drank liquid light. 

There was a virtue in that scene, 

A spell of holiness around, 
Which would have — had my brain not been 

Thus poison'd, madden'd — held me bound, 

As though I stood on God's own ground. 
Ev'n as it was, with soul all flame, 

And lips that burn'd in their own sighs, 
c 2 



20 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

I stood to gaze, with awe and shame — 
The memory of Eden came 

Full o'er me when I saw those eyes ; 
And tho' too well each glance of mine 

To the pale, shrinking maiden prov'd 
How far, alas, from aught divine, 
Aught worthy of so pure a shrine, 

Was the wild love with which I lov'd, 
Yet must she, too, have seen — oh yes, 

'Tis soothing but to think she saw — 
The deep, true, soul-felt tenderness, 

The homage of an Angel's awe 
To her, a mortal, whom pure love 
Then plac'd above him — : far above — 
And all that struggle to repress 
A sinful spirit's mad excess, 
Which work'd within me at that hour, 

When — with a voice, where Passion shed 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. 21 

All the deep sadness of her power, 

Her melancholy power — I said, 
" Then be it so — if back to heaven 

" I must unlov'd, unpitied fly, 
" Without one blest memorial given 

" To sooth me in that lonely sky — 
" One look, like those the young and fond 

" Give when they're parting — which would be, 
" Ev'n in remembrance, far beyond 

" All heaven hath left of bliss for me ! 



" A minute on this trembling arm, 
" And those mild eyes look up to mine 

" Without a dread, a thought of harm ! 
" To meet but once the thrilling touch 

" Of lips that are too fond to fear me — 
c 3 



22 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

" Or, if that boon be all too much, 

" Ev'n thus to bring their fraarance near me ! 
" Nay, shrink not so — a look — a word — 

" Give them but kindly and I fly ; 
" Already, see, my plumes have stirr'd, 

" And tremble for their home on high. 
" Thus be our parting — cheek to cheek — 

" One minute's lapse will be forgiven, 
" And thou, the next, shalt hear me speak 

" The spell that plumes my wing for heaven !" 

While thus I spoke, the fearful maid, 
Of me, and of herself afraid, 
Had shrinking stood, like flowers beneath 
The scorching of the south-wind's breath : 
But when I nam'd — alas, too well, 
I now recall, though wilder'd then, — 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. 

Instantly, when I nam'd the spell, 

Her brow, her eyes uprose again, 
And, with an eagerness, that spoke 
The sudden light that o'er her broke, 
" The spell, the spell ! — oh, speak it now, 
" And I will bless thee !" she exclaim'd- 
Unknowing what I did, inflani'd, 
And lost already, on her brow 

I stamp'd one burning kiss, and nam'd 
The mystic word, till then ne'er told 
To living creature of earth's mould ! 
Scarce was it said, when, quick as thought, 
Her lips from mine, like echo, caught 
The holy sound — her hands and eyes 
Were instant lifted to the skies, 
And thrice to heaven she spoke it out 

With that triumphant look Faith wears, 
When not a cloud of fear or doubt, 
c 4 



!4 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

A vapour from this vale of tears, 

Between her and her God appears ! 
That very moment her whole frame 
All bright and glorified became, 
And at her back I saw unclose 
Two wings, magnificent as those . 

That sparkle round the' Eternal Throne, 
Whose plumes, as buoyantly she rose 

Above me, in the moon-beam shone 
With a pure light, which — from its hue, 
Unknown upon this earth — I knew 
Was light from Eden, glistening through ! 
Most holy vision ! ne'er before 

Did aught so radiant — since the day 
When Lucifer, in falling, bore 

The third of the bright stars away* — 

* See Note. 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. : 

Rise, in earth's beauty, to repair 
That loss of light and glory there ! 

But did I tamely view her flight ? 

Did not /, too, proclaim out thrice 
The powerful words that were, that night, — 
Oh ev'n for heaven too much delight ! — 

Again to bring us, eyes to eyes, 

And soul to soul, in Paradise ? 
I did — I spoke it o'er and o'er — 

I pray'd, I wept, but all in vain ; 
For me the spell had power no more, 

There seem'd around me some dark chain 
Which still, as I essay'd to soar, 

Baffled, alas, each wild endeavour : 
Dead lay my wings, as they have lain 
Since that sad hour, and will remain — 

So wills the' offended God — for ever ! 



26 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

It was to yonder star I trac'd 
Her journey up the' illumin'd waste — 
That isle in the blue firmament, 
To which so oft her fancy went 

In wishes and in dreams before, 
And which was now — such, Purity, 
Thy blest reward — ordain'd to be 

Her home of light for evermore ! 

Once — or did I but fancy so? — 

Ev'n in her flight to that fair sphere, 
Mid all her spirit's new-felt glow, 
A pitying look she turn'd below 

On him who stood in darkness here ; 
Him whom, perhaps, if vain regret 
Can dwell in heaven, she pities yet; 



FIRST ANGEL'S STORY. 

And oft, when looking to this dim 
And distant world, remembers him. 

But soon that passing dream was gone; 
Farther and farther off she shone, 
Till lessen'd to a point, as small 

As are those specks that yonder burn — 
Those vivid drops of light, that fall 

The last from day's exhausted urn. 
And when at length she merg'd, afar, 
Into her own immortal star, 
And when at length my straining sight 

Had caught her wing's -last fading ray, 
That minute from my soul the light 

Of heaven and love both pass'd away ; 
And I forgot my home, my birth, 

Profan'd my spirit, sunk my brow, 



8 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

And revelPd in gross joys of earth, 
Till I became — what I am now !" 

The Spirit bow'd his head in shame ; 

A shame, that of itself would tell — 
Were there not ev'n those breaks of flame, 
Celestial, through his clouded frame — 

How grand the height from which he fell ! 
That holy Shame, which ne'er forgets 

What clear renown it us'd to wear ; 
Whose blush remains, when Virtue sets, 

To show her sunshine has been there. 

Once only, while the tale he told, 
Were his eyes lifted to behold 
That happy stainless star, where she 
Dwelt in her bower of purity ! 



THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 29 

One minute did he look, and then — 
As though he felt some deadly pain 
From :'ts sweet light through heart and brain- 

Shrunk back, and never look'd again. 



Who was the Second Spirit? — he 

With the proud front and piercing glance — 

Who seem'd, when viewing heaven's expanse, 
As though his far-sent eye could see 
On, on into the' Immensity 
Behind the veils of that blue sky, 
Where God's sublimest secrets lie? — 
His wings, the while, though day was gone, 

Flashing with many a various hue 
Of light they from themselves alone, 

Instinct with Eden's brightness, drew — 



50 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

A breathing forth of beams at will, 

Of living beams, which, though no more 

They kept their early lustre, still 

Were such, when glittering out all o'er, 
As mortal eye-lids wink'd before. 

'Twas Rubi — once among the prime 

And flower of those bright creatures, nam'd 
Spirits of Knowledge *, who o'er Time 

And Space and Thought an empire claim'd, 
Second alone to Him, whose light 
Was, ev'n to theirs, as day to night — 
'Twixt whom and them was distance far 

And wide, as would the journey be 
To reach from any island star 

The vague shores of Infinity ! 

* The Cherubim. — See Note. 



THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS, 

'Twas Rubi, in whose mournful eye 
Slept the dim light of days gone by ; 
Whose voice, though sweet, fell on the ear 

Like echoes, in some silent place, 
When first awak'd for many a year ; 

And when he smil'd — if o'er his face 

Smile ever shone — 'twas like the grace 
Of moonlight rainbows, fair, but wan, 
The sunny life, the glory gone. 
Ev'n o'er his pride, though still the same, 
A softening shade from sorrow came ; 
And though at times his spirit knew 

The kindlings of disdain and ire, 
Short was the fitful glare they threw — 
Like the last flashes, fierce but few, 

Seen through some noble pile on fire ! 



32 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Such was the Angel, who now broke 
The silence that had come o'er all, 
When he, the Spirit that last spoke, 
Clos'd the sad history of his fall ; 
And, while a sacred lustre, flown 

For many a day, relum'd his cheek, 
And not those sky-tun'd lips alone 
But his eyes, brow, and tresses, roll'd 

Like sunset waves, all seem'd to speak - 
Thus his eventful story told : — 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

" You both remember well the day 

When unto Eden's new-made bowers, 
He, whom all living things obey, 

Summon'd his chief angelic powers 
To witness the one wonder yet, 

Beyond man, angel, star, or sun, 
He must achieve, ere he could set 

His seal upon the world, as done — 
To see that last perfection rise, 

That crowning of creation's birth, 
When, mid the worship and surprise 
Of circling angels, Woman's eyes 

First open'd upon heaven and earth ; 



4 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

And from their lids a thrill was sent, 
That through each living spirit went 
Like first light through the firmament ! 

Can you forget how gradual stole 
The fresh-awaken'd breath of soul 
Throughout her perfect form — which seem'd 
To grow transparent, as there beam'd 
That dawn of Mind within, and caught 
New loveliness from each new thought ? 
Slow as o'er summer seas we trace 

The progress of the noontide air, 
Dimpling its bright and silent face 
Each minute into some new grace, 

And varying heaven's reflections there — 
Or, like the light of evening, stealing 

O'er some fair temple, which all day 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

Hath slept in shadow, slow revealing 

Its several beauties, ray by ray, 
Till it shines out, a thing to bless, 
All full of light and loveliness. 

Can you forget her blush, when round 
Through Eden's lone, enchanted ground 
She look'd — and at the sea — the skies - 
And heard the rush of many a wing, 
By God's command then vanishing, 
And saw the last few angel eyes, 
Still lingering — mine among the rest, — 
Reluctant leaving scene so blest ? 

From that miraculous hour, the fate 
Of this new, glorious Being dwelt 
For ever, with a spell-like weight, 
Upon my spirit — early, late, 
n 2 



56 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Whate'er I did, or dream' d, or felt, 
The thought of what might yet befall 
That splendid creature mix'd with all. — 
Nor she alone, but her whole race 

Through ages yet to come — whate'er 

Of feminine, and fond, and fair, 
Should spring from that pure mind and face, 

All wak'd my soul's intensest care ; 
Their forms, souls, feelings, still to me 
God's most disturbing mystery ! 

It was my doom — ev'n from the first, 
When summon' d with my cherub peers, 

To witness the young vernal burst 

Of Nature through those blooming spheres, 

Those flowers of light, that sprung beneath 

The first touch of the' Eternal's breath — 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 57 

It was my doom still to be haunted 
By some new wonder, some sublime 
And matchless work, that, for the time 

Held all my soul, enchain'd, enchanted, 

And left me not a thought, a dream, 

A word, but on that only theme ! 

The wish to know — that endless thirst, 

Which ev'n by quenching is awak'd, 
And which becomes or blest or curst, 

As is the fount whereat 'tis slak'd — 
Still urg'd me onward, with desire 
Insatiate, to explore, inquire — 
Whate'er the wondrous things might be, 
That wak'd each new idolatry — 

Their cause, aim, source from whence they sprung, 
Their inmost powers, as though for me 

Existence on that knowledge hung, 
n 3 



8 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Oh what a vision were the stars, 

When first I saw them burn on high, 
Rolling along, like living cars 

Of light, for gods to journey by ! 
They were my heart's first passion — days 
And nights, unwearied, in their rays 
Have I hung floating, till each sense 
Seem'd full of their bright influence. 
Innocent joy ! alas, how much 

Of misery had I shunn'd below, 
Could I have still liv'd blest with such ; 
Nor, proud and restless, burn'd to know 
The knowledge that brings guilt and woe ! 

Often — so much I lov'd to trace 
The secrets of this starry race — 
Have I at morn and evening run 
Along the lines of radiance spun, 
Like webs, between them and the sun, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

Untwisting all the tangled ties 
Of light into their different dyes — 
Then fleetly wing'd I off, in quest 
Of those, the farthest, loneliest, 
That watch, like winking sentinels, 
The void, beyond which Chaos dwells, 
And there, with noiseless plume, pursued 
Their track through that grand solitude, 
Asking intently all and each 

What soul within their radiance dwelt, 
And wishing their sweet light were speech, 

That they might tell me all they felt. 

Nay, oft, so passionate my chace 
Of these resplendent heirs of space, 
Oft did I follow — lest a ray 

Should 'scape me in the farthest night — 
Some pilgrim Comet, on his way 
d 4 



40 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

To visit distant shrines of light, 
And well remember how I sung 

Exulting out, when on my sight 
New worlds of stars, all fresh and young, 
As if just born of darkness, sprung ! 

Such was my pure ambition then, 

My sinless transport, night and morn ; 
Ere this still newer world of men, 

And that most fair of stars was born 
Which I, in fatal hour, saw rise 
Among the flowers of Paradise ! 
Thenceforth my nature all was chang'd, 

My heart, soul, senses turn'd below ; 
And he, who but so lately rang'd 

Yon wonderful expanse, where glow 
Worlds upon worlds, yet found his mind 
Ev'n in that luminous range confin'd, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 41 

Now blest the humblest, meanest sod 
Of the dark earth where Woman trod ! 
In vain my former idols glisten'd 

From their far thrones ; in vain these ears 
To the once-thrilling music listen' d, 

That hymn'd around my favourite spheres — 
To earth, to earth each thought was given, 

That in this half-lost soul had birth ; 
Like some high mount, whose head's in heaven, 

While its whole shadow rests on earth ! 

Nor was it Love, ev'n yet, that thrall'd 

My spirit in his burning ties ; 
And less, still less could it be call'd 

That grosser flame, round which Love flies 

Nearer and nearer, till he dies — 
No, it was wonder, such as thrill'd 

At all God's works my dazzled sense ; 



42 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

The same rapt wonder, only fill'd 

With passion, more profound, intense, — 
A vehement, but wandering fire, 
Which, though nor love, nor yet desire, 
Though through all womankind it took 
Its range, as vague as lightnings run, 
Yet wanted but a touch, a look, 
To fix it burning upon One. 

Then, too, the ever-restless zeal, 

The' insatiate curiosity 
To know what shapes, so fair, must feel — 
To look, but once, beneath the seal 

Of so much loveliness, and see 
What souls belong'd to those bright eyes — 

WTiether, as sun-beams find their way 
Into the gem that hidden lies, 

Those looks could inward turn their ray, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

To make the soul as bright as they ! 
All this impell'd my anxious chace, 

And still the more I saw and knew 
Of Woman's fond, weak, conquering race, 

The' intenser still my wonder grew. 

I had beheld their First, their Eve, 

Born in that splendid Paradise, 
Which God made solely to receive 

The first light of her waking eyes. 
I had seen purest angels lean 

In worship o'er her from above ; 
And man — oh yes, had envying seen 

Proud man possess'd of all her love. 

I saw their happiness, so brief, 
So exquisite — her error, too, 






14 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

That easy trust, that prompt belief 

In what the warm heart wishes true ; 
That faith in words, when kindly said, 
By which the whole fond sex is led — 
Mingled with (what I durst not blame, 

For 'tis my own) that wish to know, 
Sad, fatal zeal, so sure of woe ; 
Which, though from heaven all pure it came, 
Yet stain'd, misus'd, brought sin and shame 

On her, on me, on all below ! 
I had seen this ; had seen Man — arm'd 

As his soul is with strength and sense — 
By her first words to ruin charm'd ; 

His vaunted reason's cold defence, 
Like an ice-barrier in the ray 
Of melting summer, smil'd away ! 
Nay — stranger yet — spite of all this — 

Though by her counsels taught to err, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 4; 

Though driv'n from Paradise for her, 
(And with her — that, at least, was bliss) 
Had I not heard him, ere he crost 

The threshold of that earthly heaven, 
Which by her wildering smile he lost — 

So quickly was the wrong forgiven — 
Had I not heard him, as he prest 
The frail, fond trembler to a breast 
Which she had doom'd to sin and strife, 
Call her — think what — his Life ! his Life ! * 
Yes — such the love-taught name — the first, 

That ruin'd Man to Woman gave, 
Ev'n in his out-cast hour, when curst, 
By her fond witchery, with that worst 

And earliest boon of love — the grave ! 



* Chavah, the name by which Adam called the 
woman after their transgression, means "Life." — 

See Note. 



46 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

She, who brought death into the world, 
There stood before him, with the light 
Of their lost Paradise still bright 

Upon those sunny locks, that curl'd 

Down her white shoulders to her feet — 

So beautiful in form, so sweet 

In heart and voice, as to redeem 

The loss, the death of all things dear, 

Except herself — and make it seem 
Life, endless Life, while she was near ! 

Could I help wondering at a creature, 
Enchanted round with spells so strong — 

One, to whose every thought, word, feature, 
In joy and woe, through right and wrong, 

Such sweet omnipotence heaven gave, 

To bless or ruin, curse or save ? 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 47 

Nor did the marvel cease with her — ■ 

New Eves in all her daughters came, 
As strong to charm, as weak to err, 

As sure of man through praise and blame, 

Whate'er they brought him, pride or shame, 
Their still unreasoning worshipper — 

And, wheresoe'er they smil'd, the same 

Enchantresses of soul and frame, 
Into whose hands, from first to last, 

This world with all its destinies, 
Devotedly by heaven seems cast, 

To save or damn it, as they please ! 

Oh, 'tis not to be told how long, 

How restlessly I sigh'd to find 
Some one, from out that shining throng, 

Some abstract of the form and mind 



48 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Of the whole matchless sex, from which, 
In my own arms beheld, possest, 

I might learn all the powers to witch, 
To warm, and (if my fate unblest 
Would have it) ruin, of the rest ! 

Into whose inward soul and sense 
I might descend, as doth the bee 

Into the flower's deep heart, and thence 
Rifle, in all its purity, 

The prime, the quintessence, the whole 

Of wondrous Woman's frame and soul ! 

At length, my burning wish, my prayer, — 
(For such — oh what will tongues not dare, 
When hearts go wrong? — this lip preferr'd)- 
At length my ominous prayer was heard — 
But whether heard in heaven or hell, 
Listen — and you will know too well. 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

There was a maid, of all who move 

Like visions o'er this orb, most fit 
To be a bright young angel's love, 

Herself so bright, so exquisite ! 
The pride, too, of her step, as light 

Along the unconscious earth she went, 
Seem'd that of one, born with a right 

To walk some heavenlier element, 
And tread in places where her feet 
A star at every step should meet. 
'Twas not alone that loveliness 

By which the wilder'd sense is caught — 
Of lips, whose very breath could bless — 

Of playful blushes, that seem'd nought 

But luminous escapes of thought — 
Of eyes that, when by anger stirr'd, 
Were fire itself, but, at a word 



;o THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Of tenderness, all soft became 
As though they could, like the sun's bird, 

Dissolve away in their own flame — 
Of form, as pliant as the shoots 

Of a yoimg tree, in vernal flower ; 
Yet round and glowing as the fruits 

That drop from it in summer's hour — 
'Twas not alone this loveliness 

That falls to loveliest woman's share, 

Though, even here, her form could spare 
From its own beauty's rich excess 

' Enough to make all others fair — 
But 'twas the Mind, sparkling about 
Through her whole frame — the soul, brought out 
To light each charm, yet independent 

Of what it lighted, as the sun 
That shines on flowers, would be resplendent 

Were there no flowers to shine upon — 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

'Twas this, all this, in one combin'd, 

The' unnumber'd looks and arts that form 
The glory of young woman-kind, 

Taken hi their first fusion, warm, 

Ere time had chill'd a single charm, 
And stamp'd with such a seal of Mind, 

As gave to beauties, that might be 
Too sensual else, too unrefin'd, 

The impress of divinity ! 
'Twas this — a union, which the hand 

Of Nature kept for her alone, 
Of every thing most playful, bland, 
Voluptuous, spiritual, grand, 

In angel-natures and her own — 
Oh this it was that drew me nigh 
One, who seem'd kin to heaven as I, 
My bright twin sister of the sky — 

E 2 



52 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

One, in whose love, I felt, were given 
The mix'd delights of either sphere, 

All that the spirit seeks in heaven, 
And all the senses burn for here ! 

Had we — but hold — hear every part 

Of our sad tale — spite of the pain 
Remembrance gives, when the fix'd dart 

Is stirr'd thus in the wound again — 
Hear every step, so full of bliss, 

And yet so ruinous, that led 
Down to the last, dark precipice, 

"Where perish'd both — the fall'n, the dead ! 

From the first hour she caught my sight, 
I never left her — day and night 
Hovering unseen around her way, 
And mid her loneliest musings near, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

I soon could track each thought that lay, 

Gleaming within her heart, as clear 

As pebbles within brooks appear; 
And there, among the countless things 

That keep young hearts for ever glowing, 
Vague wishes, fond imaginings, 

Love-dreams, as yet no object knowing — 
Light, winged hopes, that come when bid, 

And rainbow joys that end in weeping, 
And passions, among pure thoughts hid, 

Like serpents under flow'rets sleeping — 
'Mong all these feelings — felt where'er 
Young hearts are beating — I saw there 
Proud thoughts, aspirings high — beyond 
Whate'er yet dwelt in soul so fond — 
Glimpses of glory, far away 

Into the bright, vague future given, 

e 3 



54 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

And fancies, free and grand, whose play, 

Like that of eaglets, is near heaven ! 
With this, too — what a soul and heart 
To fall beneath the tempter's art ! — 
A zeal for knowledge, such as ne'er 
Enshrin'd itself in form so fair 
Since that first, fatal hour, when Eve, 

With every fruit of Eden blest, 
Save only one, rather than leave 
That one unknown, lost all the rest. 

It was in dreams that first I stole 

With gentle mastery o'er her mind — 

In that rich twilight of the soul, 

When Reason's beam, half hid behind 

The clouds of sense, obscurely gilds 

Each shadowy shape that Fancy builds — 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

'Twas then, by that soft light, I brought 

Vague, glimmering visions to her view — 
Catches of radiance, lost when caught, 
Bright labyrinths, that led to nought, 

And vistas, with a void seen through — 
Dwellings of bliss, that opening shone, 

Then clos'd, dissolv'd, and left no trace — 
All that, in short, could tempt Hope on, 

But give her wing no resting-place; 
Myself the while, with brow, as yet, 
Pure as the young moon's coronet. 
Through every dream still in her sight, 

The' enchanter of each mocking scene, 
Who gave the hope, then brought the blight, 
Who said ' Behold yon world of light,' 

Then sudden dropt a veil between ! 



e 4 



56 T HE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

At length, when I perceiv'd each thought, 
Waking or sleeping, fix'd on nought 

But these illusive scenes, and me, 
The phantom, who thus came and went, 
In half revealments, only meant 

To madden curiosity — 
When by such various arts I found 
Her fancy to its utmost wound, 
One night — 'twas in a holy spot, 
Winch she for pray'r had chos'n — a grot 
Of purest marble, built below 
Her garden beds, through which a glow 
From lamps invisible then stole, 

Brightly pervading all the place — 
Like that mysterious light the soul, 

Itself unseen, sheds through the face — 
There, at her altar while she knelt, 
And all that woman ever felt. 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 5 

When God and man both claim'd her sighs • 

Every warm thought, that ever dwelt, 

Like summer clouds, 'twixt earth and skies, 
Too pure to fall, too gross to rise, 
Spoke in her gestures, tones and eyes, — 

Thus, by the tender light, which lay 

Dissolving round, as if its ray 

Was breath'd from her, I heard her say : — 

" Oh idol of my dreams ! whate'er 
" Thy nature be — : human, divine, 

" Or but half heav'nly — still too fair, 
" Too heavenly to be ever mine ! 

" Wonderful Spirit, who dost make 
" Slumber so lovely, that it seems 

" No longer life to live awake, 

" Since heaven itself descends in dreams, 



i THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

" Why do I ever lose thee ? why— 

" When on thy realms and thee I gaze — 

" Still drops that veil, which I could die, 
" Oh gladly, but one hour to raise ? 

" Long ere such miracles as thou 

" And thine came o'er my thoughts, a thirst 
" For light was in this soul, which now 

" Thy looks have into passion nurs'd. 

" There's nothing bright above, below, 
" In sky — earth — ocean, that this breast 

" Doth not intensely burn to know, 

" And thee, thee, thee, o'er all the rest ! 

" Then come, oh Spirit, from behind 
" The curtains of thy radiant home, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 59 

" Whether thou would' st as God be shrin'd, 
" Or lov'd and clasp'd as mortal, come ! 

" Bring all thy dazzling wonders here, 
" That I may waking know and see — 

" Or waft me hence to thy own sphere, 

" Thy heaven or — aye, even that with thee ! 

" Demon or God, who hold'st the book 
" Of knowledge spread beneath thine eye, 

" Give me, with thee, but one bright look 
" Into its leaves, and let me die ! 

" By those ethereal wings, whose way 
" Lies through an element, so fraught 

" With floating Mind, that, as they play, 
" Their every movement is a thought ! 



60 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

" By that most precious hair, between 
" Whose golden clusters the sweet wind 

" Of Paradise so late hath been, 
" And left its fragrant soul behind ! 

" By those impassion'd eyes, that melt 
" Their light into the inmost heart, 

" Like sunset in the waters, felt 

" As molten fire through every part, — 

" I do implore thee, oh most bright 
" And worshipp'd Spirit, shine but o'er 

" My waking, wondering eyes this night, 
" This one blest night — I ask no more !" 

Exhausted, breathless, as she said 
These burning words, her languid head 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 6 

Upon the altar's steps she cast, 
As if that brain-throb were its last — 
Till, startled by the breathing, nigh, 
Of lips, that echoed back her sigh, 
Sudden her brow again she rais'd, 

And there, just lighted on the shrine, 
Beheld me — not as I had blaz'd 

Around her, full of light divine, 
In her late dreams, but soften'd down 
Into more mortal grace — my crown 
Of flowers, too radiant for this world, 

Left hanging on yon starry steep ; 
My wings shut up, like banners furl'd, 

When Peace hath put their pomp to sleep 

Or like autumnal clouds, that keep 
Their lightnings sheath'd, rather than mar 
The dawning hour of some young star — 



S2 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

And nothing left, but what beseem'd 

The' accessible, though glorious mate 
Of mortal woman — whose eyes beam'd 

Back upon hers, as passionate ; 
Whose ready heart brought flame for flame, 
Whose sin, whose madness was the same, 
And whose soul lost, in that one hour, 

For her and for her love — oh more 
Of heaven's light than ev'n the power 

Of heav'n itself could now restore ! 

And yet that hour !" 

The Spirit here 
Stopp'd in his utterance, as if words 
Gave way beneath the wild career 

Of his then rushing thoughts — like chords, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 65 

Midway in some enthusiast's song, 
Breaking beneath a touch too strong — 
While the clench'd hand upon the brow 
Told how remembrance throbb'd there now ! 
But soon 'twas o'er — that casual blaze 
From the sunk fire of other days, 
That relic of a flame, whose burning 

Had been too fierce to be relum'd, 
Soon pass'd away, and the youth, turning 

To his bright listeners, thus resum'd : — 

" Days, months elaps'd, and, though what most 
On earth I sigh'd for was mine, all, — 

Yet — was I happy? God, thou know'st, 

Howe'er they smile, and feign, and boast, 
What happiness is theirs, who fall ! 

'Twas bitterest anguish — made more keen 

Ev'n by the love, the bliss, between 



64 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Whose throbs it came, like gleams of hell 

In agonizing cross-light given 
Athwart the glimpses, they who dwell 

In purgatory catch of heaven ! 
The only feeling that to me 

Seem'd joy, or rather my sole rest 
From aching misery, was to see 

My young, proud, blooming Lilis blest — 
She, the fair fountain of all ill 

To my lost soul — whom yet its thirst 
Fervidly panted after still, 

And found the charm fresh as at first ! — 
To see her happy — to reflect 

Whatever beams still round me play'd 
Of former pride, of glory wreck' d, 

On her, my Moon, whose light I made, 
And whose soul worshipp'd ev'n my shade — 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. e< 

This was, I own, enjoyment — this 
My sole, last lingering glimpse of bliss. 

And proud she was, bright creature ! — proud, 
Beyond what ev'n most queenly stirs 

In woman's heart, nor would have bow'd 
That beautiful young brow of hers 

To aught beneath the First above, 

So high she deem'd her Cherub's love ! 

Then, too, that passion, hourly growing 
Stronger and stronger — to which even 

Her love, at times, gave way — of knowing 
Every thing strange in earth and heaven ; 

Not only what God loves to show, 

But all that He hath seal'd below 

In darkness, for man not to know — 



!6 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Ev'n this desire, alas, ill-starr'd 

And fatal as it was, I sought 
To feed each minute, and unbarr'd 

Such realms of wonder on her thought, 
As ne'er, till then, had let their light 
Escape on any mortal's sight ! 
In the deep earth — beneath the sea — 

Through caves of fire — through wilds of air - 
Wherever sleeping Mystery 

Had spread her curtain, we were there — 
Love still beside us, as we went, 
At home in each new element, 

And sure of worship every where ! 

Then first was Nature taught to lay 
The wealth of all her kingdoms down 

At woman's worshipp'd feet, and say, 
" Bright creature, this is all thine own !" 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

Then first were diamonds caught — like eyes 
Shining in darkness — by surprise, 
And made to light the conquering way 
Of proud young beauty with their ray. 
Then, too, the pearl from out its shell 

Unsightly, in the sunless sea, 
(As 'twere a spirit, forc'd to dwell 

In form unlovely) was set free, 
And round the neck of woman threw 
A light it lent and borrow'd too. 
For never did this maid — whate'er 

The' ambition of the hour — forget 
Her sex's pride in being fair, 
Nor that adornment, tasteful, rare, 
Which makes the mighty magnet, set 
In Woman's form, more mighty yet. 
Nor was there aught within the range 

Of my swift wing in sea or air, 
f 2 



ts THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Of beautiful, or grand, or strange, 
That, quickly as her wish could change, 

I did not seek, with such fond care, 
That when I've seen her look above 

At some bright star admiringly, 
I've said " nay, look not there, my love, 

Alas, I cannot give it thee !" 

But not alone the wonders found 

Through Nature's realm — the' unveil'd, material, 
Visible glories, that hang round, 
Like lights, through her enchanted ground — 

But whatsoe'er unseen, ethereal, 
Dwells far away from human sense, 
Wrapp'd in its own intelligence — 
The mystery of that Fountain-head, 

From which all vital spirit runs, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 69 

All breath of Life, where'er 'tis shed, 

Through men or angels, flowers or suns — 
The workings of the' Almighty Mind, 
When first o'er Chaos he design'd 
The outlines of this world ; and through 

That spread of darkness — like the bow, 
Call'd out of rain-clouds, hue by hue — 

Saw the grand, gradual picture grow ! — 
The covenant with human kind 

Which God hath made — the chains of Fate 
He round himself and them hath twin'd, 

Till his high task he consummate — 
Till good from evil, love from hate, 
Shall be work'd out through sin and pain, 
And Fate shall loose her iron chain, 
And all be free, be bright again ! 



f 3 



70 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Such were the deep-drawn mysteries, 

And some, perhaps, ev'n more profound, 
More wildering to the mind than these, 

Which — far as woman's thought could sound, 
Or a fall'n, outlaw'd spirit reach — 
She dar'd to learn, and I to teach. 
Till — fill'd with such unearthly lore, 

And mingling the pure light it brings 
With much that fancy had, before, 

Shed in false, tinted glimmerings — 
The' enthusiast girl spoke out, as one 

Inspir'd, among her own dark race, 
Who from their altars, in the sun 
Left standing half adorn'd, would run 

To gaze upon her holier face. 
And, though but wild the things she spoke, 
Yet mid that play of error's smoke 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

Into fair shapes by fancy curl'd, 
Some gleams of pure religion broke — 
Glimpses, that have not yet awoke, 

But startled the still dreaming world ! 
Oh, many a truth, remote, sublime, 

Which God would from the minds of men 
Have kept conceal'd, till his own time, 

Stole out in these revealments then — 
Revealments dim, that have fore-run, 
By ages, the bright, Saving One ! * 
Like that imperfect dawn, or light 

Escaping from the Zodiac's signs, 



* It is the opinion of some of the Fathers, that the 
knowledge which the Heathens possessed of the Pro- 
vidence of God, a Future State, and other sublime doc- 
trines of Christianity, was derived from the premature 
revelations of these fallen angels to the women of 
earth. — See Note. 

F 4 



72 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Which makes the doubtful east half bright 
Before the real morning shines ! 

Thus did some moons of bliss go by — 

Of bliss to her, who saw but love 
And knowledge throughout earth and sky ; 
To whose enamour'd soul and eye, 
I seem'd, as is the sun on high, 

The light of all below, above, 
The spirit of sea, land, and air, 
Whose influence, felt every where, 
Spread from its centre, her own heart, 
Ev'n to the world's extremest part — 
While through that world her reinless mind 

Had now career'd so fast and far, 
That earth itself seem'd left behind, 
And her proud fancy, unconfin'd, 

Already saw heaven's gates a-jar ! 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 75 

Happy enthusiast ! still, oh, still 
Spite of my own heart's mortal chill, 
Spite of that double-fronted sorrow, 

Which looks at once before and back, 
Beholds the yesterday, the morrow, 

And sees both comfortless, both black — 
Spite of all this, I could have still 
In her delight forgot all ill ; 
Or, if pain would not be forgot, 
At least have borne and murmur'd not. 
When thoughts of an offended heaven, 

Of sinfulness, which I — ev'n L, 
While down its steep most headlong driven, — 
Well knew could never be forgiven, 

Came o'er me with an agony 
Beyond all reach of mortal woe, — 
A torture kept for those who know, 



74 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Know every thing, and, worst of all, 
Know and love virtue while they fall ! — 
Ev'n then, her presence had the power 

To soothe, to warm, — nay, ev'n to bless — 
If ever bliss could graft its flower 

On stem so full of bitterness — 
Ev'n then her glorious smile to me 

Brought warmth and radiance, if not balm, 
Like moonlight on a troubled sea, 

Brightening the storm it cannot calm. 

Oft, too, when that disheartening fear, 
Which all who love, beneath the sky, 

Feel, when they gaze on what is dear — 
The dreadful thought that it must die ! 

That desolating thought, which comes 

Into men's happiest hours and homes ; 






SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

Whose melancholy boding flings 
Death's shadow o'er the brightest things, 
Sicklies the infant's bloom, and spreads 
The grave beneath young lovers' heads ! 
This fear, so sad to all — to me 

Most full of sadness, from the thought 
That I must still live on, when she 
Would, like the snow that on the sea 

Fell yesterday, in vain be sought — 
That heaven to me the final seal 

Of all earth's sorrow would deny, 
And I eternally must feel 

The death-pang, without power to die ! 
Ev'n this, her fond endearments — fond 
As ever twisted the sweet bond 
'Twixt heart and heart — could charm away: 
Before her look no clouds would stay, 



76 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Or, if they did, their gloom was gone, 
Their darkness put a glory on ! 
There seem'd a freshness in her breath. 
Beyond the reach, the power of death : 
And then, her voice — oh, who could doubt 
That 'twould for ever thus breathe out 
A music, like the harmony 
Of the tim'd orbs, too sweet to die ! 
While in her lip's awakening touch 
There thrill'd a life ambrosial — such 
As mandes in the fruit steep'd through 
With Eden's most delicious dew — 
Till I could almost think, though known 
And lov'd as human, they had grown 
By bliss, celestial as my own ! 

But 'tis not, 'tis not for the wrong, 
The guilty, to be happy long ; 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

And she, too, now, had sunk within 
The shadow of her tempter's sin — 
Shadow of death, whose withering frown 
Kills whatsoe'er it lights upon — 
Too deep for ev'n her soul to shun 
The desolation it brings down ! 

Listen, and, if a tear there be 
Left in your hearts, weep it for me. 

'Twas on the evening of a day, 
Which we in love had dream'd away ; 
In that same garden, where, beneath 
The silent earth, stripp'd of my wreath, 
And furling up those wings, whose light 
For mortal gaze were else too bright, 
I first had stood before her sight; 



78 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

And found myself — oh, ecstacy, 

Which ev'n in pain I ne'er forget — 
Worshipp'd as only God should be, 

And lov'd as never man was yet ! 
In that same garden we were now, 

Thoughtfully side by side reclining, 
Her eyes turn'd upward, and her brow 

With its own silent fancies shining. 
It was an evening bright and still 

As ever blush'd on wave or bower, 
Smiling from heaven, as if nought ill 

Could happen in so sweet an hour. 
Yet, I remember, both grew sad 

In looking at that light — ev'n she, 
Of heart so fresh, and brow so glad, 

Felt the mute hour's solemnity, 
And thought she saw, in that repose, 

The death-hour not alone of light, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

But of this whole fair world — the close 
Of all things beautiful and bright — 
The last, grand sun-set, in whose ray 
Nature herself died calm away ! 

At length, as if some thought, awaking 

Suddenly, sprung within her breast — 
Like a young bird, when day-light breaking 

Startles him from his dreamy nest — 
She turn'd upon me her dark eyes, 

Dilated into that full shape 
They took in joy, reproach, surprise, 

As if to let more soul escape, 
And, playfully as on my head 
Her white hand rested, smil'd and said : ■ — 

" I had, last night, a dream of thee, 
" Resembling those divine ones, given, 



so THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS, 

" Like preludes to sweet minstrelsy, 

" Before thou cam'st, thyself, from heaven. 

" The same rich wreath was on thy brow, 
" Dazzling as if of star-light made ; 

" And these wings, lying darkly now, 

" Like meteors round thee flash'd and play'd. 

" All bright as in those happy dreams 
" Thou stood'st, a creature to adore 

" No less than love, breathing out beams, 
" As flowers do fragrance, at each pore ! 

" Sudden I felt thee draw me near 

" To thy pure heart, where, fondly plac'd, 

" I seem'd within the atmosphere 
" Of that exhaling light embrac'd ; 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 8 

" And, as thou heldst me there, the flame 
" Pass'd from thy heavenly soul to mine, 

« Till — oh, too blissful — I became, 
" Like thee, all spirit, all divine. 

" Say, why did dream so bright come o'er me, 
" If, now I wake, 'tis faded, gone? 

Ci When will my Cherub shine before me 
" Thus radiant, as in heaven he shone? 

" When shall I, waking, be allow'd 
" To gaze upon those perfect charms, 

i s And hold thee thus, without a cloud, 
" A chill of earth, within my arms ? 

" Oh what a pride to say — this, this 
" Is my own Angel — all (Jivine, 



J2 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

" And pure, and dazzling as he is, 

" And fresh from heaven, he's mine, he's mine ! 

" Think'st thou, were Lilis in thy place, 

" A creature of yon lofty skies, 
" She would have hid one single grace, 

" One glory from her lover's eyes? 

" No, no — then, if thou lov'stlike me, 
" Shine out, young Spirit, in the blaze 

" Of thy most proud divinity, 

" Nor think thou'lt wound this mortal gaze. 

" Too long have I look'd doating on 

" Those ardent eyes, intense ev'n thus — 

" Too near the stars themselves have gone, 
" To fear aught grand or luminous. 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

" Then doubt me not — oh, who can say 
"But that this dream may yet come true, 

" And my blest spirit drink thy ray 
" Till it becomes all heavenly too ? 

" Let me this once but feel the flame 
" Of those spread wings, the very pride 

" Will change my nature, and this frame 
" By the mere touch be deified !" 

Thus spoke the maid, as one, not us'd 
To be by man or God refus'd — 
As one, who felt her influence o'er 

All creatures, whatsoe'er they were, 
And, though to heaven she could not soar, 

At least would brine; down heaven to her ! 



14 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Little did she, alas, or I — 

Ev'n I, whose soul, but half-way yet 
Immerg'd in sin's obscurity, 
Was as the planet where we lie, 

O'er half whose disk the sun is set — 
Little did we foresee the fate, 

The dreadful — how can it be told ? 
Oh God ! such anguish to relate 

Is o'er again to feel, behold ! 
But, charg'd as 'tis, my heart must speak 
Its sorrow out, or it will break ! 

Some dark misgivings had, I own, 

Pass'd for a moment through my breast - 

Fears of some danger, vague, unknown, 
To one, or both — something unblest 
To happen from this proud request. 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. s 

But soon these boding fancies fled ; 

Nor saw I aught that could forbid 
My full revealment, save the dread 

Of that first dazzle, that unhid 

And bursting glory on a lid 
Untried in heaven — and ev'n this glare 
She might, by love's own nursing care, 
Be, like young eagles, taught to bear. 
For well I knew the lustre shed 
From my rich wings, when proudliest spread, 
Was, in its nature, lambent, pure, 

And innocent as is the light 
The glow-worm hangs out to allure 

Her mate to her green bower at night. 
Oft had I, in the mid-air, swept 
Through clouds in which the lightning slept, 
As in his lair, ready to spring, 

a 3 



86 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Yet wak'd him not — though from my wing 
A thousand sparks fell glittering ! 
Oft too when round me from above 

The feather'd snow (which, for its whiteness, 
In my pure days I used to love) 
Fell, like the moultings of heaven's Dove, — 

So harmless, though so full of brightness, 
"Was my brow's wreath, that it would shake 
From off its flowers each downy flake 
As delicate, unmelted, fair, 
And cool as they had fallen there ! 

Nay ev'n with Lilis — had I not 

Around her sleep in splendor come — 

Hung o'er each beauty, nor forgot 
To print my radiant lips on some ? 

And yet, at morn, from that repose, 

Had she not wak'd, unscath'd and bright, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

As doth the pure, unconscious rose, 

Though by the fire-fly kiss'd all night ? 
Ev'n when the rays I scatter'd stole 
Intensest to her dreaming soul, 
No thrill disturb'd th' insensate frame — 
So subtle, so refin'd that flame, 
Which, rapidly as lightnings melt 

The blade within the unharm'd sheath, 
Can, by the outward form unfelt, 

Reach and dissolve the soul beneath ! 

Thus having (as, alas, deceiv'd 

By my sin's blindness, I believ'd) 

No cause for dread, and those black eyes 

There fix'd upon me, eagerly 
As if the' unlocking of the skies 

Then waited but a sign from me — 

a 4 



38 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

How was I to refuse ? how say 

One word that in her heart could stir 
A fear, a doubt, but that each ray 

I brought from heaven belong'd to her ! 
Slow from her side I rose, while she 
Stood up, too, mutely, tremblingly, 
But not with fear — all hope, desire, 

She waited for the awful boon, 
Like priestesses, with eyes of fire 

Watching the rise of the full moon, 
Whose beams — they know, yet cannot shun — 
Will madden them when look'd upon ! 
Of all my glories, the bright crown, 
Which, when I last from heaven came down, 
I left — see, where those clouds afar 

Sail through the west — there hangs it yet, 
Shining remote, more like a star 

Than a fall'n angel's coronet — 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

Of all my glories, this alone 

Was wanting — but the' illumin'd brow, 
The curls, like tendrils that had grown 

Out of the sun — the eyes, that now 
Had love's light added to their own, 
And shed a blaze, before unknown 
Ev'n to themselves — the' unfolded wings 
From which, as from two radiant springs, 
Sparkles fell fast around, like spray — 
All I could bring of heaven's array, 

Of that rich panoply of charms 
A Cherub moves in, on the day 
Of his best pomp, I now put on ; 
And, proud that in her eyes I shone 

Thus glorious, glided to her arms, 
Which still (though at a sight so splendid 

Her dazzled brow had instantly 



90 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Sunk on her breast) were wide extended 
To clasp the form she durst not see ! 

Great God ! how could thy vengeance light 
So bitterly on one so bright ? 
How could the hand, that gave such charms, 
Blast them again, in love's own arms ? 
Scarce had I touch'd her shrinking frame, 

When — oh most horrible! — I felt 
That every spark of that pure flame — 

Pure, while among the stars I dwelt — 
Was now by my transgression turn'd 
Into gross, earthly fire, which burn'd, 
Burn'd all it touch'd, as fast as eye 

Could follow the fierce, ravening flashes, 
Till there — oh God, I still ask why 
Such doom was hers? — I saw her lie 

Black'ning within my arms to ashes ! 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. « 

Those cheeks, a glory but to see — 

Those lips, whose touch was what the first 
Fresh cup of immortality 

Is to a new-made angel's thirst ! 
Those arms, within whose gentle round, 
My heart's horizon, the whole bound 
Of its hope, prospect, heaven was found ! 
Which, ev'n in this dread moment, fond 

As when they first were round me cast, 
Loos' d not in death the' fatal bond, 

But, burning, held me to the last — 
That hair, from under whose dark veil, 
The snowy neck, like a white sail 
At moonlight seen 'twixt wave and wave, 
Shone out by gleams — that hair, to save 
But one of whose long} glossy wreaths, 
I could have died ten thousand deaths ! — - 



92 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

All, all, that seem'd, one minute since, 
So full of love's own redolence, 
Now, parch'd and black, before me lay, 
Withering in agony away ; 
And mine, oh misery ! mine the flame, 
From which this desolation came — 
And I the fiend, whose foul caress 
Had blasted all that loveliness ! 

'Twas madd'ning, 'twas — but hear even worse 

Had death, death only, been the curse 

I brought upon her — had the doom 

But ended here, when her young bloom 

Lay in the dust, and did the spirit 

No part of that fell curse inherit, 

'Twere not so dreadful — but, come near — 

Too shocking 'tis for earth to hear — 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

Just when her eyes, in fading, took 

Their last, keen, agoniz'd farewell, 
And look'd in mine with — oh, that look ! 

Avenging Power, whate'er the hell 
Thou may'st to human souls assign, 
The memory of that look is mine ! — 
In her last struggle, on my brow 

Her ashy lips a kiss imprest, 
So withering ! — I feel it now — 

'Twas fire — but fire, ev'n more unblest 
Than was my own, and like that flame, 
The angels shudder but to name, 
Hell's everlasting element ! 

Deep, deep it pierc'd into my brain, 
Madd'ning and torturing as it went, 

And here — see here, the mark, the stain 
It left upon my front — burnt in 
By that last kiss of love and sin — 



94 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

A brand, which ev'n the wreathed pride 
Of these bright curls, still forc'd aside 
By its foul contact, cannot hide ! 

But is it thus, dread Providence — 
Can it, indeed, be thus, that she, 
Who, but for one proud, fond offence, 

Had honour'd heaven itself, should be 
Now doom'd — I cannot speak it — no, 
Merciful God ! it is not so — 
Never could lips divine have said 
The fiat of a fate so dread. 
And yet, that look — that look, so fraught 

With more than anguish, with despair — 
That new, fierce fire, resembling nought 

In heaven or earth — this scorch I bear ! 
Oh, — for the first time that these knees 

Have bent before thee since my fall, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 95 

Great Power, if ever thy decrees 

Thou could'st for prayer like mine recall, 
Pardon that spirit, and on me, 

On me, who taught her pride to err, 
Shed out each drop of agony 

Thy burning phial keeps for her ! 
See, too, where low beside me kneel 

Two other out-casts, who, though gone 
And lost themselves, yet dare to feel 

And pray for that poor mortal one. 
Alas, too well, too well they know 
The pain, the penitence, the woe 
That Passion brings down on the best, 
The wisest and the loveliest. — 
Oh, who is to be sav'd, if such 

Bright, erring souls are not forgiven ; 
So loth they wander, and so much 

Their very wanderings lean tow'rds heaven ! 



96 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Again, I cry, Just God, transfer 

That creature's sufferings all to me — 
Mine, mine the guilt, the torment be, 

To save one minute's pain to her, 
Let mine last all eternity !" 

He paus'd, and to the earth bent down 

His throbbing head ; while they, who felt 
That agony as 'twere their own, 

Those angel youths, beside him knelt, 
And, in the night's still silence there, 
While mournfully each wandering air 
Play'd in those plumes, that never more 
To their lost home in heav'n must soar, 
Breath'd inwardly the voiceless prayer, 
Unheard by all but Mercy's ear — 
And which if Mercy did not hear, 



SECOND ANGEL'S STORY. 

Oh, God would not be what this bright 
And glorious universe of his, 

This world of beauty, goodness, light 
And endless love proclaims He is ! 



Not long they knelt, when, from a wood 
That crown'd that airy solitude, 
They heard a low, uncertain sound, 
As from a lute, that just had found 
Some happy theme, and murmur'd round 
The new-born fancy — with fond tone, 
Like that of ring-dove o'er her brood — 
Scarce thinking aught so sweet its own ! 
Till soon a voice, that match'd as well 

That gentle instrument, as suits 
The sea-air to an ocean-shell, 

(So kin its spirit to the lute's,) 

H 



98 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Tremblingly follow'd the soft strain, 
Interpreting its joy, its pain, 

And lending the light wings of words 
To many a thought, that else had lain 

Unfledg'd and mute among the chords. 

All started at the sound — but chief 

The third young Angel, in whose face, 
Though faded like the others, grief 

Had left a gentler, holier trace ; 
As if, eVn yet, through pain and ill, 
Hope had not quit him — as if still 
Her precious pearl, in sorrow's cup, 

Unmelted at the bottom lay, 
To shine again, when, all drunk up, 

The bitterness should pass away. 
Chiefly did he, though in his eyes 
There shone more pleasure than surprise, 



THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Turn to the wood, from whence that sound 

Of solitary sweetness broke, 
Then, listening, look delighted round 

To his bright peers, while thus it spoke : 

" Come, pray with me, my seraph love, 
" My angel-lord, come pray with me ; 
" In vain to-night my lip hath strove 
" To send one holy prayer above — 
" The knee may bend, the lip may move, 
" But pray I cannot, without thee ! 

" I've fed the altar in my bower 

" With droppings from the incense tree 
" I've shelter'd it from wind and shower, 
" But dim it burns the livelong hour, 
" As if, like me, it had no power 

" Of life or lustre, without thee ! 
h 2 



00 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

" A boat at midnight sent alone 
" To drift upon the moonless sea, 

" A lute, whose leading chord is gone, 

" A wounded bird, that hath but one 

" Imperfect wing to soar upon, 

" Are like what I am, without thee ! 

" Then ne'er, my spirit-love, divide, 

" In life or death, thyself from me ; 
" But when again, in sunny pride, 
" Thou walk'st through Eden, let me glide, 
" A prostrate shadow, by thy side — 
" Oh happier thus than without thee !" 

The song had ceas'd, when, from the wood • 
Where, curving down that airy height, 

It reach'd the spot on which they stood — 
There suddenly shone out a light 



THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. loi 

From a clear lamp, which, as it blaz'd 
Across the brow of one, who rais'd 
The flame aloft, (as if to throw 
Its light upon that group below) 
Display'd two eyes, sparkling between 
The dusky leaves, such as are seen 
By fancy only, in those faces, 

That haunt a poet's walk at even, 
Looking from out their leafy places 

Upon his dreams of love and heaven. 
'Twas but a moment — the blush, brought 
O'er all her features at the thought 

Of being seen thus, late, alone, 
By any but the eyes she sought, 

Had scarcely for an instant shone 

Through the dark leaves when she was gone — 
Gone, like a meteor that o'erhead 
Suddenly shines, and, ere we've said, 
" Look, look, how beautiful !" — 'tis fled. 
h 3 



102 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Yet, ere she went, the words, " I come, 
" I come, my Nama," reach'd her ear, 
In that kind voice, familiar, dear, 
Which tells of confidence, of home, — 
Of habit, that hath drawn hearts near, 
Till they grow one — of faith sincere, 
And all that Love most loves to hear ! 
A music, breathing of the past, 

The present and the time to be, 
Where Hope and Memory, to the last, 
Lengthen out life's true harmony ! 

Nor long did he, whom call so kind 
Summon'd away, remain behind ; 
Nor did there need much time to tell 

What they — alas, more fall'n than he 
From happiness and heaven — knew well, 

His gentler love's short history ! 



THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 103 

Thus did it run — not as he told 

The tale himself, but as 'tis grav'd 
Upon the tablets that, of old, 

By Cham were from the deluge sav'd, 
All written over with sublime 

And saddening legends of the' unblest, 
But glorious Spirits of that time, 

And this young Angel's 'mong the rest. 



h 4 



THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 



THIRD ANGEL'S STORY. 

Among the Spirits, of pure flame, 

That round the' Almighty Throne abide — 

Circles of light, that from the same 
Eternal centre sweeping wide, 
Carry its beams on every side, 

(Like spheres of air that waft around 

The undulations of rich sound) 

Till the far-circling radiance be 

Diffus'd into infinity ! 

First and immediate near the Throne, 

As if peculiarly God's own, 

The Seraphs * stand — this burning sign 

Trac'd on their banner, " Love Divine !" 

The Seraphim are the Spirits of Divine Love. — See Note. 



THIRD ANGEL'S STORY. 

Then- rank, their honours, far above 

Ev'n those to high-brow'd Cherubs given, 
Though knowing all — so much doth Love 



'Mong these was Zaraph once — and none 

E'er felt affection's holy fire, 
Or yearn'd towards the' Eternal One, 

With half such longing, deep desire. 
Love was to his impassion'd soul 

Not, as with others, a mere part 
Of its existence, but the whole — 

The very life-breath of his heart ! 

Often, when from the' Almighty brow 
A lustre came, too bright to bear, 

And all the seraph ranks would bow 

Their heads beneath their wings, nor dare 
To look upon the' effulgence there — 



06 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

This Spirit's eyes would court the blaze, 

(Such pride he in adoring took) 
And rather lose, in that one gaze, 

The power of looking, than not look ! 
Then too, when angel voices sung 
The mercy of their God, and strung 
Their harps to hail, with welcome sweet, 

The moment, watch'd for by all eyes, 
When some repentant sinner's feet 

First touch'd the threshold of the skies, 
Oh then how clearly did the voice 
Of Zaraph above all rejoice ! 
Love was in every buoyant tone, 

Such love, as only could belong 
To the blest angels, and alone 

Could, ev'n from angels, bring such song ! 



THIRD ANGEL'S STORY. 

Alas, that it should e'er have been 

The same in heaven as it is here, 
Where nothing fond or bright is seen, 

But it hath pain and peril near — 
Where right and wrong so close resemble, 

That what we take for virtue's thrill 
Is often the first downward tremble 

Of the heart's balance into ill — - 
Where Love hath not a shrine so pure, 

So holy, but the serpent, Sin, 
In moments, ev'n the most secure, 

Beneath his altar may glide in ! 

So was it with that Angel — such 
The charm, that slop'd his fall along 

From good to ill, from loving much, 
Too easy lapse, to loving wrong. — 



108 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Ev'n so that am'rous Spirit, bound 
By beauty's spell, where'er 'twas found, 
From the bright things above the moon 

Down to earth's beaming eyes descended, 
Till love for the Creator soon 

In passion for the creature ended ! 

'Twas first at twilight, on the shore 
Of the smooth sea, he heard the lute 

And voice of her he lov'd steal o'er 
The silver waters, that lay mute, 

As loth, by ev'n a breath, to stay 

The pilgrimage of that sweet lay ; 

Whose echoes still went on and on, 

Till lost among the light that shone 

Far off, beyond the ocean's brim — 
There, where the rich cascade of day 



THIRD ANGEL'S STORY. 

Had, o'er the' horizon's golden rim, 

Into Elysium roll'd away ! 
Of God she sung, and of the mild 

Attendant Mercy, that beside 
His awful throne for ever smil'd, 

Ready, with her white hand, to guide 
His bolts of vengeance to their prey — 
That she might quench them on the way ! 
Of Peace — of that Atoning Love, 
Upon whose star, shining above 
This twilight world of hope and fear, 

The weeping eyes of Faith are fix'd 
So fond, that with her every tear 

The light of that love-star is mix'd ! — 
All this she sung, and such a soul 

Of piety was in that song, 
That the charm'd Angel, as it stole 

Tenderly to his ear, along 



no THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Those lulling waters where he lay, 

Watching the day-light's dying ray, 

Thought 'twas a voice from out the wave, 

An echo, that some spirit gave 

To Eden's distant harmony, 

Heard faint and sweet beneath the sea ! 

Quickly, however, to its source, 
Tracking that music's melting course, 
He saw, upon the golden sand 
Of the sea-shore a maiden stand, 
Before whose feet the' expiring waves 

Flung their last tribute with a sigh — 
As, in the East, exhausted slaves 

Lay down the far-brought gift, and die 
And, while her lute hung by her, hush'd, 

As if unequal to the tide 



THIRD ANGEL'S STORY. 1 

Of song, that from her lips still gush'd, 

She rais'd, like one beatified, 
Those eyes, whose light seem'd rather given 

To be ador'd than to adore — 
Such eyes, as may have look'd from heaven, 

But ne'er were rais'd to it before ! 

Oh Love, Religion, Music — all 

That's left of Eden upon earth — 
The only blessings, since the fall 
Of our weak souls, that still recall 

A trace of their high, glorious birth — 
How kindred are the dreams you bring ! 

How Love, though unto earth so prone, 
Delights to take Religion's wing, 

When time or grief hath stain'd his own ! 
How near to Love's beguiling brink, 

Too oft, entranc'd Religion lies ! 



112 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

While Music, Music is the link 

They both still hold by to the skies, 
The language of their native sphere, 
Which they had else forgotten here. 

How then could Zaraph fail to feel 

That moment's witcheries? — one, so fair, 

Breathing out music, that might steal 
Heaven from itself, and rapt in prayer 
That seraphs might be proud to share ! 

Oh, he did feel it — far too well — 

With warmth, that much too dearly cost- 

Nor knew he, when at last he fell, 

To which attraction, to which spell, 

Love, Music, or Devotion, most 

His soul in that sweet hour was lost. 



THIRD ANGEL'S STORY. 

Sweet was the hour, though dearly won, 

And pure, as aught of earth could be, 
For then first did the glorious sun 

Before religion's altar see 
Two hearts in wedlock's golden tie 
Self-pledg'd, in love to live and die — 
Then first did woman's virgin brow 

That hymeneal chaplet wear, 
Which when it dies, no second vow 

Can bid a new one bloom out there — 
Blest union ! by that Angel wove, 

And worthy from such hands to come ; 
Safe, sole asylum, in which Love, 
When fall'n or exil'd from above, 
In this dark world can find a home. 

And, though the Spirit had transgress'd, 
Had, from his station 'mong the blest 



114 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Won down by woman's smile, allow'd 

Terrestrial passion to breathe o'er 
The mirror of his heart, and cloud 

God's image, there so bright before — 
Yet never did that God look down 

On error with a brow so mild ; 
Never did justice launch a frown, 

That, ere it fell, so nearly smil'd. 
For gentle was their love, with awe 

And trembling like a treasure kept, 
That was not theirs by holy law, 
Whose beauty with remorse they saw, 

And o'er whose preciousness they wept. 
Humility, that low, sweet root, 
From which all heavenly virtues shoot, 
Was in the hearts of both — but most 

In Nama's heart, by whom alone 



THIRD ANGEL'S STORY. 115 

Those charms, for which a heaven was lost, 
Seem'd all unvalued and unknown ; 

And when her Seraph's eyes she caught, 
And hid hers glowing on his breast, 

Ev'n bliss was humbled by the thought — - 
" What claim have I to be so blest ?" 

Still less could maid, so meek, have nurs'd 
Desire of knowledge — that vain thirst, 
With which the sex hath all been curs'd, 
From luckless Eve to her, who near 
The Tabernacle stole to hear 
The secrets of the angels — no — 

To love as her own Seraph lov'd, 
With Faith, the same through bliss and woe — 

Faith, that, were ev'n its light remov'd, 
Could, like the dial, fix'd remain, 
And wait till it shone out again — 
i 2 



lie THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

With Patience that, though often bow'd 

By the rude storm, can rise anew, 
And Hope that, ev'n from Evil's cloud, 

Sees sunny Good half breaking through ! 
This deep, relying Love, worth more 
In heaven than all a cherub's lore — 
This Faith, more sure than aught beside, 
Was the sole joy, ambition, pride 
Of her fond heart — the' unreasoning scope 

Of all its views, above, below — 
So true she felt it that to hope, 

To trusty is happier than to know. 

And thus in humbleness they trod, 
Abash'd, but pure before their God ; 
Nor e'er did earth behold a sight 
So meekly beautiful as they, 



THIRD ANGEL'S STORY. 

When, with the altar's holy light 

Full on their brows, they knelt to pray, 
Hand within hand, and side by side, 
Two links of love, awhile untied 
From the great chain above, but fast 
Holding together to the last — 
Two fallen Splendors, from that tree, 
Which buds with such eternally, * 
Shaken to earth, yet keeping all 
Their light and freshness in the fall. 

Their only punishment (as wrong, 
However sweet, must bear its brand) 

Their only doom was this — that, long 
As the green earth and ocean stand, 



* An allusion to the Sephiroths or Splendors of the 
Jewish Cabbala, represented as a tree, of which God 
is the crown or summit. — See Note. 



3 



118 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

They both shall wander here — the same, 
Throughout all time, in heart and frame — 
Still looking to that goal sublime, 

Whose light remote, but sure, they see, 
Pilgrims of Love, whose way is Time, 

Whose home is in Eternity ! 
Subject, the while, to all the strife, 
True love encounters in this life — 
The wishes, hopes, he breathes in vain; 

The chill, that turns his warmest sighs 

To earthly vapour, ere they rise ; 
The doubt he feeds on, and the pain 

That in his very sweetness lies. 
Still worse, the' illusions that betray 

His footsteps to their shining brink ; 
That tempt him, on his desert way 

Through the bleak world, to bend and drink, 



THIRD ANGEL'S STORY. 

Where nothing meets his lips, alas, 
But he again must sighing pass 
On to that far-off home of peace, 
In which alone his thirst will cease. 

All this they bear, but, not the less, 
Have moments rich in happiness — 
Blest meetings, after many a day 
Of widowhood past far away, 
When the lov'd face again is seen 
Close, close, with not a tear between — 
Confidings frank, without control, 
Pour'd mutually from soul to soul ; 
As free from any fear or doubt 

As is that light from chill or stain, 
The sun into the stars sheds out, 

To be by them shed back again ! — 

i 4 



120 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

That happy minglement of hearts, 

Where, chang'd as chymic compounds are, 
Each with its own existence parts, 

To find a new one, happier far ! 
Such are their joys — and, crowning all, 

That blessed hope of the bright hour, 
When, happy and no more to fall, 

Their spirits shall, with freshen'd power, 
Rise up rewarded for their trust 

In Him, from whom all goodness springs, 
And, shaking off earth's soiling dust 

From their emancipated wings, 
Wander for ever through those skies 
Of radiance, where Love never dies ! 

In what lone region of the earth 

These Pilgrims now may roam or dwell, 



THIRD ANGEL'S STORY. 

God and the Angels, who look forth 

To watch their steps, alone can tell. 
But should we, in our wanderings, 

Meet a young pair, whose beauty wants 
But the adornment of bright wings, 

To look like heaven's inhabitants — 
Who shine where'er they tread, and yet 

Are humble in their earthly lot, 
As is the way-side violet, 

That shines unseen, and were it not 

For its sweet breath would be forgot — 
Whose hearts, in every thought, are one, 

Whose voices utter the same wills, 
Answering, as Echo doth some tone 

Of fairy music 'mong the hills, 
So like itself, we seek in vain 
Which is the echo, which the strain — 



122 THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. 

Whose piety is love, whose love, 

Though close as 'twere their souls' embrace, 
Is not of earth, but from above — 

Like two fair mirrors, face to face, 
Whose light, from one to the' other thrown, 
Is heaven's reflection, not their own — 
Should we e'er meet with aught so pure, 
So perfect here, we may be sure, 

There is but one such pair below. 
And, as we bless them on their way 
Through the world's wilderness, may say, 

" There Zaraph and his Nama go." 



NOTES, 



NOTES. 



Preface, p. xi. 
An erroneous translation by the LXX. of that verse 
in the sixth Chapter of Genesis, 8fc. 
The error of these interpreters (and, it is said, of the 
old Italic version also,) was in making it ol AfyeXot ra 
ftss, " the Angels of God," instead of " the Sons" — a 
mistake, which, assisted by the allegorizing comments 
of Philo, and the rhapsodical fictions of the Book of 
Enoch *, was more than sufficient to affect the ima- 
ginations of such half- Pagan writers as Clemens Alex- 
andrinus, Tertullian, and Lactantius, who, chiefly, 
among the Fathers, have indulged themselves in fan- 

* It is lamentable to think that this absurd production, 
of which we now know the whole from Dr. Laurence's 
translation, should ever have been considered as an inspired 
or authentic work. — See the Preliminary Dissertation 
prefixed to the Translation. 



126 NOTES. 

ciful reveries upon the subject. The greater number, 
however, have rejected the fiction with indignation. 
Chrysostom, in his twenty-second Homily upon Ge- 
nesis, earnestly exposes its absurdity * ; and Cyril 
accounts such a supposition as efjvi; pupta*;, " border- 
ing on folly." f According to these Fathers (and 
their opinion has been followed by all the theologians, 
down from St. Thomas to Caryl and Lightfoot J,) the 

* One of the arguments of Chrysostom is, that Angels 
are no where else, in the Old Testament, called " Sons of 
God," — but his commentator, Montfaucon, shows that he 
is mistaken, and that in the Book of Job they are so 
designated, (c. 1. v. 6.) both in the original Hebrew and the 
Vulgate, though not in the Septuagint, which alone, he says, 
Chrysostom read. 

t Lib. ii. Glaphyrorum. — Philaestrius, in his enume- 
ration of heresies, classes this story of the Angels among 
the number, and says it deserves only to be ranked with 
those fictions about gods and goddesses, to which the 
fancy of the Pagan poets gave birth : — " Sicuti et Paga- 
" norum et Poetarum mendacia adserunt deos deasque 
" transformatos nefanda conjugia commisisse." — De Hseres. 
Edit. Basil, p. 101. 

f Lightfoot says " The sons of God, or the members of the 
Church, and the progeny of Seth, marrying carelessly and 
promiscuously with the daughters of men, or brood of 
Cain, &c." I find in Pole that, according to the Samaritan 
version, the phrase may be understood as meaning " the 
Sons of the Judges." — So variously may the Hebrew word, 
Elohim, be interpreted. 



NOTES. 127 

term " Sons of God," must be understood to mean 
the descendants of Seth, by Enos — a family pecu- 
liarly favoured by heaven, because with them, men 
first began " to call upon the name of the Lord" — 
while, by " the daughters of men," they suppose 
that the corrupt race of Cain is designated. The 
probability, however, is, that the words in question 
ought to have been translated " the sons of the 
" nobles or great men," as we find them interpreted 
in the Targum of Onkelos, (the most ancient and ac- 
curate of all the Chaldaic paraphrases,) and, as it 
appears from Cyril, the version of Symmachus also 
rendered them. This translation of the passage re- 
moves all difficulty, and at once relieves the Sacred 
History of an extravagance, which, however it may 
suit the imagination of the poet, is inconsistent 
with all our notions, both philosophical and religious. 

Page 3. 

Transmit each moment, night and day, 

The echo of His luminous tvord! 

Dionysius (De Ccelest. Hierarch.) is of opinion, 

that when Isaiah represents the Seraphim as crying 

out " one unto the other," his intention is to describe 



128 NOTES. 

those communications of the Divine thought and will, 
which are continually passing from the higher orders 

of the angels to the lower : — oia, y.ai avtsc, ts? %eoto,t8<; 
SfflaffltjW. ol &so\oyoi <pa<7iv irepov it^oc, rov Itejxjv y.ty.payEva,i, 
a-afooq ev T8TCC, Ka&au-£j) o^oci, S'/jXevTE?, or* rccv &soXoyiY.uv 
yvuarsccv ol nguroi ron; SsvTEgoit; //.ETaBiSoao-j. — See also, in 

the Paraphrase of Pachymer upon Dionysius, cap. 2. 
rather a striking passage, in which he represents all 
living creatures, as being, in a stronger or fainter 
degree, " echos of God." 

Page 6. 
One of earth's fairest ivoman-kind 
Half veWdfrom view, or rather shrind 
In the clear crystal of a brook. 
This is given upon the authority, or rather ac- 
cording to the fancy of some of the Fathers, who 
suppose that the women of earth were first seen by 
the angels in this situation; and St. Basil has even 
made it the serious foundation of rather a rigorous 
rule for the toilette of his fair disciples; adding, 

ly.avov yag £$-' itapayv^vB^EVoy xaAAos y.ou vlst; &£g itpog ffiovvjv 
yorfrzvaai, y.ai ug av^Spooicsi; ^laravrvjv aicoSsvrji7Y.ovrai;, S"V7jra? 

airo§£i!jou. — De Vera Virginitat. torn. i. p. 747. Edit. 
Paris. 1618. 



NOTES. 129 

Page 17. 
Then first that juice of earth, &;c: Sfc. 
For all that relates to the nature and attributes of 
angels, the time of their creation, the extent of their 
knowledge, and the power which they possess, or can 
occasionally assume of performing such human func- 
tions as eating, drinking, &c. &c, I shall refer those 
who are inquisitive upon the subject to the following 
works: — The Treatise upon the Celestial Hierarchy, 
written under the name of Dionysius the Areopagite, 
in which, among much that is heavy and trifling, there 
are some sublime notions concerning the agency of 
these spiritual creatures — the Questions " de cogni- 
tione angelorum" of St. Thomas, where he examines 
most prolixly into such puzzling points as " whether 
angels illuminate each other," "whether they speak to 
each other," &C.&C. — The Thesaurus of Cocceius, con- 
taining extracts from almost every theologian that has 
written on the subject — the 9th, 10th and 11th chapters, 
sixth book, of "L'Histoire des Juifs," where all the 
extraordinary reveries of the Rabbins * about angels 

* The following may serve as specimens : — " Les Anges ne 
scavent point la langue Chaldaique ; c'est pourquoi ils ne 
portent point a Dieu les oraisons de ceux qui prient dans 



130 NOTES. 

and daemons are enumerated — the Questions attri- 
buted to St. Athanasius — the Treatise of Bona- 
venture upon the Wings of the Seraphim* — and, 
lastly, the ponderous folio of Suarez " de Angelis," 
where the reader will find all that has ever been 
fancied or reasoned, upon a subject which only such 
writers could have contrived to render so dull. 



cette langue. lis se tromperit souvent; ils ont des erreurs 
dangereuses : car PAnge de la mort, qui est charge* de faire 
rnourir un homme, en prend quelquefois un autre, ce qui 

cause de grands desordres Ils sont 

charge's de chanter devant Dieu le Cantique, Saint, Saint est le 
Dieu des armies; mais ils ne remplissent cet office qu'une 
fois le jour, dans une semaine, dans un mois, dans un an, 
dans un siecle, ou dans Peternite'. L'Ange qui luttoit contre 
Jacob le pressa de le laisser aller, lorsque PAurore parut, 
parce que c'e'toit son tour de chanter le Cantique ce jour la 
ce qu'il n'avoit encore jamais fait." 

* This work (which, notwithstanding its title, is, probably, 
quite as dull as the rest) I have not, myself, been able to 
see, having searched for it in vain through the King's Library 
at Pans, though assisted by the zeal and kindness of M. 
Langle"s and M. Vonpradt, whose liberal administration of 
that most liberal establishment, entitles them — not only for 
the immediate effect of such conduct, but for the useful and 
civilizing example it holds forth — to the most cordial gra- 
titude of the whole literary world. 



NOTES. 131 

Page 12. 
The Spirit of yon beauteous star. 
It is the opinion of Kircher, Ricciolus, &c. (and 
was, I believe, to a certain degree, that of Origen) 
that the stars are moved and directed by intelligences 
or angels who preside over them. Among other pas- 
sages from Scripture in support of this notion, they 
cite those words of the Book of Job, " When the 
morning stars sang together." — Upon which Kircher 
remarks, " Non de materialibus intelligitur." Itin. 1. 
Isagog. Astronom. See also Caryl's most wordy Com- 
mentary on the same text. 

Page 14. 

And the bright Watchers round the throne. 

" The Watchers, the offspring of heaven." — Book 

of Enoch. In Daniel also the angels are called 

watchers : — " And behold, a watcher and an holy 

one came down from heaven." iv. 13. 

Page 18. 
Then first the fatal 'wine-cup rairid, fyc. 
Some of the circumstances of this story were sug- 
gested to me by the Eastern legend of the two angels, 
K 2 



152 NOTES. 

Harut and Marut, as it is given by Mariti, who says, 
that the author of the Taalim founds upon it the 
Mahometan prohibition of wine. The Bahardanush 
tells the story differently. 

Page 19. 
Why, ivhy have hapless Angels eyes ? 
Tertullian imagines that the words of St. Paul, 
" Woman ought to have a veil on her head*, on 
account of the angels," have an evident reference to the 
fatal effects which the beauty of women once pro- 
duced upon these spiritual beings. See the strange 
passage of this Father, (de Virgin. Velandis,) be- 
ginning " Si enim propter angelos, &c," where his 
editor Pamelius endeavours to save his morality at the 
expense of his Latinity, by substituting the word 
" excussat"for " excusat." Such instances of inde- 
corum, however, are but too common throughout the 
Fathers, in proof of which I need only refer to some 
passages in the same writer's treatise, " De Anima," to 
the Second and Third Books of the Paedagogus of 
Clemens Alexandrinus, and to the instances which 
La Mothe le Vayer has adduced from Chrysostom in 
his Hexameron Rustique, Journee Seconde. 

1 Corinth, xi. 10. Dr. Mackniffht's Translation. 



NOTES. 153 

" Page 24. 
When Lucifer, in falling, bore 

The third of the bright stars atvay. 
" And his tail drew the third part of the stars of 
heaven, and did cast them to the earth." Revelat. xii. 
4 — " Docent sancti (says Suarez) supremum ange- 
lum traxisse secum tertiam partem stellarum." Lib. 7. 
cap. 7. 

Page 25. 
Rise, in earth's beauty, to repair 
That loss of light and glory there ! 
The idea of the Fathers was that the vacancies, 
occasioned in the different orders of angels by the 
fall, were to be filled up from the human race. There 
is, however, another opinion, backed by Papal autho- 
rity, that it was only the tenth order of the Celestial 
Hierarchy that fell, and that, therefore, the promotions 
which occasionally take place from earth are intended 
for the completion of that grade alone : or, as it is 
explained by Salonius (Dial, in Eccl.) — " Decern sunt 
ordines angelorum, sed unus cecidit per superbiam, et 
idcirco boni angeli semper laborant, ut de hominibus 
numerus adimpleatur, et proveniat ad perfectum nu- 
k 3 



134 NOTES. 

merum, id est, denarium." According to some theo- 
logians, virgins alone are admitted " ad collegium 
angelorum ;" but the author * of the " Speculum 
Peregrinarum Qusestionum" rather questions this ex- 
clusive privilege : — " Hoc non videtur verum, quia 
multi,nonvirgines, utPetrus etMagdalena,multis etiam 
virginibus eminentiores sunt." Decad. 2. cap. 10. 

Page 30. 
' Twas Rub i. 

I might have chosen perhaps some better name, but 
it is meant (like that of Zaraph in the following story) 
to define the particular class of spirits to which the 
angel belonged. The author of the Book of Enoch, 
who estimates at 200 the number of angels that de- 
scended upon Mount Hermon, for the purpose of 
making love to the women of earth, has favoured us 
with the names of their leader and chiefs — Samyaza, 
Urakabarameel, Akibeel, Tamiel, &c. &c. 

In that heretical worship of angels, which prevailed, 
to a great degree, during the first ages of Christianity, 
to name them seems to have been one of the most im- 
portant ceremonies ; for we find it expressly forbidden 

* F. Bartholonigeus Sibylla. 



NOTES. 155 

in one of the Canons (35th) of the Council of Laodicea. 
ovopa^Eiv T8? afysXss. Josephus too mentions, among 
the religious rites of the Essenes, their swearing " to 
preserve the names of the angels," — j-wnj^o-Eiv rot, ruv 
a/ye\uv ovopara. Bell. Jud. lib. 2. cap. 8. — See upon 
this subject, Van Dale, de Orig. et Progress. Idololat. 
cap. 9. 

Page 30. 

Those bright creatures, narnd 

Spirits of Knowledge. 
The word cherub signifies knowledge — to yvog-tKov 
avrwv ycai Ssovtmov, says Dionysius. Hence it is that 
Ezekiel, to express the abundance of their knowledge, 
represents them as " full of eyes." 



Page 33. 
Summon d his chief angelic powers 
To witness, fyc. 
St. Augustin, upon Genesis, seems rather inclined 
to admit that the angels had some share (" aliquod 
ministerium") in the creation of Adam and Eve. 



k 4- 



156 NOTES. 

Page 43. 
I had beheld their First, their Eve, 
Bom in that splendid Paradise. 
Whether Eve was created in Paradise or not is a 
question that has been productive of much doubt and 
controversy among the theologians. With respect to 
Adam, it is agreed on all sides that he was created 
outside; and it is accordingly asked, with some 
warmth, by one of the commentators, " why should 
woman, the ignobler creature of the two, be cre- 
ated within?"* Others, on the contrary, consider 
this distinction as but a fair tribute to the superior 
beauty and purity of women, and some, in their zeal, 
even seem to think that, if the scene of her creation 
was not already Paradise, it became so, immediately 
upon that event, in compliment to her. Josephus is 
one of those, who think that Eve was formed 
outside; Tertullian, too, among the Fathers — and, 
among the Theologians, Rupertus, who, to do him 
justice, never misses an opportunity of putting on 
record his ill-will to the sex. Pererius, however, (and 



' " Cur denique Evam, quas Adamo ignobilior erat, formavit 
intra Paradisum ?" 



NOTES. 157 

his opinion seems to be considered the most orthodox) 
thinks it much more consistent with the order of the 
Mosaic narration, as well as with the sentiments of 
Basil and other Fathers, to conclude that Eve was 
created in Paradise. 

Page 43. 
Her error, too. 
The comparative extent of Eve's delinquency, and 
the proportion which it bears to that of Adam, is 
another point which has exercised the tiresome inge- 
nuity of the Commentators ; and they seem generally 
to agree (with the exception always of Rupertus) that, 
as she was not yet created when the prohibition was 
issued, and therefore could not have heard it, (a con- 
clusion remarkably confirmed by the inaccurate way 
in which she reports it to the serpent*) her share in 
the crime of disobedience is considerably lighter than 



* Rupertus considers these variantes as intentional and pre- 
varicatory, and as the first instance upon record of a wilful 
vitiation of the words of God, for the purpose of suiting 
the corrupt views and propensities of human nature. — De 
Trinitat. lib. iii. cap. 5. 



1.58 NOTES. 

that of Adam. * In corroboration of this view of the 
matter, Pererius remarks that it is ^o Adam alone the 
Deity addresses his reproaches for having eaten of 
the forbidden tree, because to Adam alone the 
order had been originally promulgated. So far, in- 
deed, does the gallantry of another commentator, 
Hugh de St. Victor, carry him, that he looks upon the 
words " I will put enmity between thee and the wo- 
man" as a proof that the sex was from that moment 
enlisted into the service of heaven, as the chief foe 
and obstacle which the spirit of Evil would have to 
contend with in his inroads on this world : — "si 
deinceps Eva inimica Diabolo, ergo fuit grata et arn- 
ica Deo." 



Page 45. 
Call her — think ivhat — his Life ! his Life! 
Chavah (or, as it is in the Latin version, Eva) has the 
same signification as the Greek, Zoe. 



* Caietanus, indeed, pronounces it to be " minimum pecca- 
tum." 



NOTES. 139 

Epiphanius, among others, is not a little surprised 
at the application of such a name to Eve, so immedi- 
ately too, after that awful denunciation of death, "dust 
thou art, &c. &c. * Some of the commentators think 
that it was meant as a sarcasm, and spoken by Adam, 
in the first bitterness of his heart, — in the same 
spirit of irony (says Pererius) as that of the Greeks 
in calling their Furies, Eumenides, or Gentle. -J- But 
the Bishop of Chalon, rejects this supposition: — 
" Explodendi sane qui id nominis ab Adamo per 
ironiam inditum uxori suae putant ; atque quod mortis 
causa esset, amaro joco vitam appellasse."J 

With a similar feeling of spleen against women, 
some of these " distillateurs des Saintes Lettres (as 
Bayle calls them) in rendering the text " 1 will make 
him a help meet for him," translate these last words 
" against or contrary to him" (a meaning which, it ap- 



* Kcti juera to aKsaat, jri ei nai as yi\v cwreAeuoTj, juera rr)v irapa- 
fiacriv. nai i\v SavpaaTov on pera vr\v irapa/Sao-iv Tavrrjv rrjv fieyaA-qv 
(ffxev eirwvvfjLiav. Hseres. 78. § 18. torn. i. edit. Paris, 1622. 

f Lib. 6. p. 254. 

J Pontus Tyard de recta nominum impositione, p. 14. 



140 NOTES. 

pears, the original will bear) and represent them as 
prophetic of those contradictions and perplexities, 
which men experience from women in this life. 

It is rather strange that these two instances of per- 
verse commentatorship should have escaped the re- 
searches of Bayle, in his curious article upon Eve. 
He would have found another subject of discussion, 
equally to his taste, in Gataker's whimsical dissertation 
upon Eve's knowledge of the ttyyt\ vfa.vtiv.ti, and upon 
the notion of Epiphanius that it was taught her in 
a special revelation from heaven. — Miscellan. lib. ii. 
cap. 3. p. 200. 

Page 57. 
Oh idol of my dreams! tvhate'er 

Thy nature he — human, divine, 
Or but halfheavnly. 
In an article upon the Fathers, which appeared, 
some years since, in the Edinburgh Review (No. 47-), 
and of which I have made some little use in these 
notes, (having that claim over it — as " quiddam 
notum propriumque" — which Lucretius gives to 
the cow over the calf,) there is the following re- 
mark:—" The belief of an intercourse between angels 
and women, founded upon a false version of a text 



NOTES. ui 

in Genesis, is one of those extravagant notions of 
St. Justin and other Fathers, which show how little 
they had yet purified themselves from the grossness 
of heathen mythology, and in how many respects 
their heaven was but Olympus, with other names. 
Yet we can hardly be angry with them for this one 
error, when we recollect that possibly to their ena- 
moured angels we owe the fanciful world of sylphs 
and gnomes, and that at this moment we might have 
wanted Pope's most exquisite poem, if the version of 
the LXX. had translated the Book of Genesis cor- 
rectly." 

The following is one among many passages, which 
may be adduced from the Comte de Gabalis, in 
confirmation of this remark : — " Ces enfans du ciel 
engendrerent les geans fameux, s'etant fait aimer aux 
filles des hommes ; et les mauvais cabalistes Joseph 
et Philo (comme tous les Juifs sont ignorans), et 
apres eux tous les auteurs que j'ai nomme tout a 
l'heure, ont dit que c'etoit des anges, et n'ont pas scu 
que c'etoit les sylphes et les autres peuples des ele- 
mens, qui sous le nom d'enfans d'Eloim, sont distin- 
gues des enfans des hommes." — See Entret. Second. 



142 NOTES. 

Page 65. 
So high she deem'd her Cherub's love ! 
" Nihil plus desiderare potuerint quae angelos pos- 
sidebant — magno scilicet nupserant." Tertull. de 
Habitu Mulieb. cap. 2. 

Page 67. 
Then first mere diamonds caught, fyc. 

" Quelques gnomes desireux de devenir immortels, 
avoient voulu gagner les bonnes graces de nos filles, 
et leur avoient apporte des pierreries dont ils sont 
gardiens naturels : et ces auteurs ont cru, s'appuyans 
sur le livre d'Enoch mal-entendu, que c'etoient des 
pi6ges que les anges amoureux, &c. &c." Comte de 
Gabalis. 

Tertullian traces all the chief luxuries of female 
attire, the neck-laces, armlets, rouge, and the black 
powder for the eye-lashes, to the researches of these 
fallen angels into the inmost recesses of nature, and 
the discoveries they were, in consequence, enabled to 
make, of all that could embellish the beauty of their 
earthly favourites. The passage is so remarkable that 
I shall give it entire: — "Nam et illi qui ea constituerant, 
damnati in paenam mortis deputantur : illi scilicet 



NOTES. 143 

angeli, qui ad filias hominum de ccelo ruerunt, ut haec 
quoque ignominia fceminae accedat. Nam cum et ma- 
terias quasdam bene occultas et artes plerasque non 
bene revelatas, seculo multo magis imperito prodi- 
dissent (siquidem et metallorum opera nudaverant, et 
herbarum ingenia traduxerant et incantationum vires 
provulgaverant, et omnem curiositatem usque ad 
stellarum interpretationem designaverant) proprie et 
quasi peculiariter fceminis instrumentum istud mulie- 
bris gloriae contulerunt : lumina lapillorum quibus 
monilia variantur, et circulos ex auro quibus brachia 
arctantur ; et medicamenta ex fuco, quibus lanae co- 
lorantur, et ilium ipsum nigrum pulverem, quo ocu- 
lorum exordia producuntur." De Habitu Mulieb. 
cap. 2 — See him also " De Cultu Fcem. cap. 10. 

Page 67. 
The mighty magnet, set 
In tnomaris form. 
The same figure, as applied to female attractions, 
occurs in a singular passage of St. Basil, of which 
the following is the conclusion : . — Aia ryv svovo-av Kara, 
rov apptvoq avrriq fva-iKrjv tvvaa-ruav, &<; (Titypot;, (py^i, icoppw- 
$ev (/.ayvrtTii;, tqvto irpof eavrov pafyavevi. De Vera Vir- 



144 NOTES. 

ginitat. torn. i. p. 727. It is but fair, however, to 
add, that Hermant, the biographer of Basil, has pro- 
nounced this most unsanctified treatise to be spurious. 

Page 68. 
I've said, " Nay, look not there, my love," fyc. 
I am aware that this happy saying of Lord Albe- 
marle's loses much of its grace and playfulness, by 
being put into the mouth of any but a human lover. 

Page 71. 
Note. 
Clemens Alexandrinus is one of those who suppose 
that the knowledge of such sublime doctrines was 
derived from the disclosure of the angels. Stromal. 
lib. v. p. 48. To the same source Cassianus and 
others trace all impious and daring sciences, such as 
magic, alchemy, &c. " From the fallen angels (says 
Zosimus) came all that miserable knowledge which 

is of no use to the soul." — Jlavra t« vovvjga. y.a,i p?§£v 

utptkuvTa Trjv ipv^y. Ap. Photium. 



NOTES. 14.5 

Page 71. 
That light 
Escaping from the Zodiacs signs. 
" La lumiere Zodiacale n'est autre chose que 
1'atmosphere du soleil." — Lalande. 

Page 103. 

As 'tis grav'd 
Upon the tablets that, of old, 
By Cham tvere from the Deluge sav'd. 
The pillars of Seth are usually referred to as the de- 
positaries of ante-diluvian knowledge ; but they were 
inscribed with none but astronomical secrets. I have, 
therefore, preferred here the tablets of Cham, as 
being, at least, more miscellaneous in their inform- 
ation. The following account of them is given in 
Jablonski from Cassianus : — " Quantum enim antiquae 
traditiones ferunt Cham filius Noae, qui superstitioni- 
bus ac profanis fuerit artibus institutus, sciens nullum 
se posse superbis memorialem librum in arcam inferre, 
in quam erat ingressurus, sacrilegas artes ac profana 
commenta durissimis insculpsit lapidibus." 



i4 6 NOTES. 

Page 103. 
And this young angel's 'mong the rest. 
Pachymer, in his Paraphrase on the Book de 
Divinis Nominibus of Dionysius, speaking of the in- 
carnation of Christ, says, that it was a mystery inef- 
fable from all time, and " unknown even to the first 
and oldest angel," — justifying this last phrase by the 
authority of St. John in the Revelation. 

Page 104. 
Circles of light that, from the same 
Eternal centre sleeping uoide, 
Carry its beams on every side. 
See the 13th chapter of Dionysius for his notions of 
the manner in which God's ray is communicated, 
first to the Intelligences near him, and then to those 
more remote, gradually losing its own brightness as 
it passes into a denser medium. — irpoo-pa.X'hso-a tie ran; 

•naxvTepa.ii; vXan;, apvtipoTepav e%ei rqv &<«8otj>ojj' emfaveiav. 



NOTES. 147 

Page 113. 
Then first did woman's virgin brow 

That hymeneal chaplet wear, 
Which when it dies, no second vow 
Can bid a new one bloom out there. 
In the Catholic church, when a widow is married, 
she is not, I believe, allowed to wear flowers on her 
head. The ancient Romans, honoured with a " co- 
rona pudicitiae," or crown of modesty, those who 
entered but once into the marriage state. 

Page 115. 

Her, who near 
The Tabernacle stole to hear 
The secrets of the Angel. 
Sara. 

Page 117. 
Two fallen Splendors. 
The Sephiroths are the higher orders of emana- 
tive being, in the strange and incomprehensible sys- 
tem of the Jewish Cabbala. They are called by 
various names, Pity, Beauty, &c. &c. ; and their in- 
fluences are supposed to act through certain canals, 



148 NOTES. 

which communicate with each other. The reader may 
judge of the rationality of the 6ystem by the following 
explanation of part of the machinery: — " Les canaux 
qui sortent de la Misericorde et de la Force, et qui vont 
aboutir a la Beaute, sont charges d'un grand nombre 
d'Anges. II y en a trente-cinq sur le canal de la 
Misericorde, qui recompensent et qui couronnent 
la vertu des Saints, &c. &c." — For a concise account 
of the Cabalistic Philosophy, see Enfield's very use- 
ful compendium of Brucker. 

Page 117. 

From that tree 
Which buds ivith such eternally. 
" On les repr^sente quelquefois sous la figure d'un 
arbre .... l'Ensoph qu'on met au-dessus de l'arbre 
Sephirotique ou des Splendeurs divins, est lTnfini." — 
L'Histoire des Juifs, liv, ix. 11. 



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